By Tim Harris · June 1, 2026

🎧 You can also stream us on Apple Podcasts & Spotify

Hello fellow car degenerates,

Let’s just get this out of the way early — because I know this statement will trigger at least half of you:

👉 The 718 Spyder RS is the best sports car built in the last 10 years.

Possibly 20.

And no — I’m not adding the usual cowardly disclaimer: “for the money.”

Not for the money.
Not for the segment.
Not for Porsche fans only.

Just… period.

If that makes you uncomfortable, good. That probably means you haven’t driven one properly yet. Go find a road worthy of it, take a deep breath, and come back to me afterward.

Because this car isn’t just good.

It’s a revelation.

Like many of you, I’ve spent decades chasing the perfect car for the perfect road.

Not the fastest car.

Not the most expensive car.

Not the one that gets you valet attention or Instagram validation.

The real unicorn is something else entirely — the machine that dissolves the barrier between driver and car.

The one that makes time feel compressed.
The one that forces you fully into the present moment.
The one where you stop thinking and start feeling.

If you know, you know.

If you don’t — that’s okay. This article probably isn’t for you anyway.

This is for the tiny fraction of us — the .0001% — who obsess over steering feel, induction noise, brake modulation, and the way a chassis communicates through your spine.

And after decades of searching…

I think I found it.

For me, the natural habitat of the 718 Spyder RS is a road like Big Sur — fast enough to breathe, technical enough to challenge, beautiful enough to remind you why driving matters in the first place.

Up until now, only race cars — real race cars — delivered the kind of connection I felt in the SRS.

And yes, I’ve chased that feeling extensively.

Not to impress anyone — I genuinely don’t care if this resonates with everyone reading. We may never meet. I’m not trying to win arguments on the internet.

But for context, here’s the short list of machines that have passed through my garage while searching for this elusive perfection:

I don’t worship brands. If Kia builds a masterpiece tomorrow, I’ll buy one.

The only thing that matters is the drive.

The sensory feedback borders on overwhelming.

The SRS doesn’t just communicate — it floods you with information.

Steering weight. Engine resonance. Chassis response. Intake noise inches behind your head. Everything working together like a perfectly tuned orchestra that somehow still feels raw and alive.

This isn’t refinement.

It’s connection.

And strangely — it’s more emotional than many of the Italians.

Yes, I said it.

Here’s what makes the Spyder RS truly special:

Most people have no idea what it is.

Valets won’t scramble.
Influencers won’t chase you.
The Hermès crowd will walk right past it.

To the average observer, it’s just another Boxster.

And that is exactly why it matters.

This car isn’t about:

It’s about driving.

The SRS is invisible to everyone except the people who understand it — and that makes it feel almost like a secret society handshake among real enthusiasts.

Driving the Spyder RS reminds me of:

But with one critical difference:

It’s a Spyder.

And Spyders matter.

The original Porsche 550s — pure Spyders — were about stripping away everything unnecessary. No roof, no excess, just machine and driver.

The 718 Spyder RS channels that same energy.

This isn’t a “race car for the road,” which usually means compromise wrapped in marketing language.

This feels like a race car that escaped containment.

Let’s talk about the roof.

Yes, it requires effort.

Yes, it’s unconventional.

And yes — I think Porsche designed it that way intentionally.

It’s a filter.

If you complain about the top, you probably aren’t the target owner.

And that’s okay.

The brilliance here is that Porsche solved a complex engineering problem in a way that feels organic — almost inevitable — once you understand it.

It’s genius disguised as simplicity.

Just like the rest of the car.

I love this car.

I will never sell it.

After decades of searching, driving, buying, and sometimes being disappointed… the unicorn finally showed up.

If you’re still searching for yours, don’t stop.

Because every once in a while, a car comes along that reminds you why you fell in love with driving in the first place.

And for me — right now — that car is the 718 Spyder RS.

Full throttle.

— Tim Harris

📩 Don’t keep Full Throttle Talk a secret—share it with a friend, family member, or colleague. Let’s spread the fun!

🧠 Got an article or market take? Send it in—we’ll feature our favorites in an upcoming issue.

💬 Want your question featured on the next show? DM us on Instagram or reply to this newsletter.