DO YOU REALLY NEED A 911?
MARK WEBBER has made a mistake. He must have done. Sawing away at the wheel as our Cayman GT4 flip-flops through the tricky blind chicane at Knockhill circuit in Scotland, Webber’s internal calculation of our trajectory and the remaining road has clearly typed in 2+2 and come up with five. Wedged in the passenger seat like a useless sack of potatoes, I brace for the seemingly inevitable sojourn onto the grass. It never arrives. With the finesse of a concert pianist, Webber brushes the brakes to trim our line, the GT4’s left-side tyres running to
