BMW M3 Competition review: super saloon gets a grilling
(BMW)
It must have been 1987 when I first saw one. A boy in my class was picked up from school in a red BMW M3 on dealer delivery plates. To make matters worse, that boy – let’s call him Mark – had a habit of stealing my packed lunch. Life wasn’t fair.
Thirteen years later, I had my revenge. Not by half-inching Mark’s Dairylea sandwiches, but by buying my own M3: also a first-generation E30, also in Brilliant Red. With its box-flared wheelarches and high-revving engine, it was a pukka homologation special – and infinitely cooler than the hot hatches my mates drove.