The omens weren't good for the 75 when it was launched, but it turned out to be an exciting if eccentric BMW 3-series battler...
Been there done that: Alfa Romeo 75
Grasp it in the wrong way and the pain could even shock. The sharp, multi-fingered stabbing you’d feel when releasing the handbrake of an Alfa 75, whose U-shaped handle’s squeezable safety catch was highly likely to pinch the fleshy pads of your fingers, could easily produce a yelp of surprise. Not the kind of tactile intimacy most drivers wanted from their cars.
Those closely following a 75 in traffic might reckon its driver was occasionally delivering them a mimed expletive, should he be operating the Alfa’s electric windows. Why? Because the ceiling-mounted rockers invited single-digit prodding easily visible through the rear window, which a tailgater might interpret as an uncalled-for single-digit signal. It was Alfa Romeo’s PR man who pointed that out, his view of the car refreshingly realistic. But while the 75 had its foibles, it made an unusual alternative to a 3-series.
Not that the 75 seemed that way when it was launched in 1985. It was little more than a reclothed 1977 Giulietta, itself built out of the 1972 Alfetta.
But there were positives. The most substantial of these were Alfa’s terrific 1.8 Twin Cam and the honeyed baritone of its legendary 2.5-litre V6. The 75 had a quiet, well-insulated aura of robustness about it too, and a better gearchange than other Alfas with the rear-mounted gearbox.
This meant near-perfect weight distribution, the point of which you might question at first: the 75’s handling softly understeer-prone until you discover the accelerator is also a trajectory-affecting device.
Alfa GB’s new boss made cautiously bullish noises about sales; and journalists at the launch, this one included, almost dared to believe it.
Despite an accelerator pedal angled to give you leg-ache within the hour and a slide-out glovebox that did just that under fierce acceleration, the 75 was an entertaining drive.
It started to sell well. At which point Alfa GB’s boss was fired for allegedly having his hand in the till.
Happily, this did little to stall Alfa’s novel sales uplift, which was given a further boost with some small changes. One was to offer the V6 with a manual, as the auto-only 2.5-litre was like making Usain Bolt run with a splint; another was to uncramp the accelerator; and the third was to fit a new Twin Spark 2.0-litre whose 148bhp brought the four-cylinder 75 alive.
Sales didn’t rocket but they grew, the 75 gathering a keen following that makes it surprising that more of these engaging cars don’t survive today, especially as they were pretty reliable, and unlike so many Alfas past, very reluctant to rust.