THERE’S A MOMENT to savour when driving a performance car; something that speaks volumes about the way the car communicates with the driver. It’s the first time you provoke a skerrick of oversteer and it’s always illuminating. In effect, you’re trying to establish whether the hands react quicker than purely conscious thought. If it seems that winding off lock to catch the slide is the most natural thing in the world, the car has signalled its intentions clearly. If you’re behind the eight-ball reacting to it, chances are that message has been critically garbled at some point in its journey from the rear tyre treads to your prefrontal cortex.
The Nissan Z is acing that particular test. While there are a handful of motoring journalists who are naturally born to just such an assignment, I think it’s fair to say that I’m not one of them. The Z is making it feel almost like cheating though. Perhaps I am cheating a little, as I’m in sport mode which eases off the stability control significantly but still retains a safety net if the car thinks you’re getting a little too expressive. Even if you switch it all ‘off’,
