Mustang Boss 302, get thee to a tannery.


I'd then find a metal fabricator to make a beautiful, machine-turned aluminum dash inset to replace the shoddy trim piece that's there. That piece I would donate to a local rifle range.

The Alcantara-wrapped steering wheel and Recaro seats can stay, I guess.

The Boss's problem is an interesting one: The car's performance is so ridiculously stout, smart, evolved, so beyond reasonable expectations, it really belongs to a sports coupe costing twice as much, which you'd think would be a source of great pride of ownership. But then you start looking around the cabin and realize, crestfallen, it's still just a Mustang. This model—a dead-ringer tribute to the Boss 302 of 1969-70, a track-prepped road car sold to meet the production-car rules for the SCCA's Trans Am series—is so good it actually highlights the cheezy remnants of the Mustang donor car (base price around $23,000), e.g., the plasticky interior, the econo-box center stack of switches, World-of-Playskool speedo and tach.

Dan Neil reviews the Mustang Boss 302, which he says excels in its performance on the road but falls short in the interior of the car.

Photos: A Car So Evolved


Indeed, this is a case for Darwin and Linnaeus: What do you call a car so evolved it ceases to be a member of the species it evolved from? A Mitsubishi Evo X is many things, but a Mitsu Lancer is not one of them. What, precisely, is the taxonomic status of a Mercedes-Benz C63 AMG Black Series? A Benz compact car? Right. I'm Irish, but that doesn't make me Bono.

The Boss's 5.0-liter V8 (the time-honored 302 cubic inches of displacement, in case you're curious) is based on the GT's engine, but it's built up and blueprinted so that it is essentially a different machine. With a hardened crank, journals and rod bearings, sodium-filled valves, forged pistons, polished ports, and lightweight valveware—not to mention the velocity stack-like runners hidden in the intake plenum—this chipped-and-cammed V8 soars and sings with an ornery joy the stock engine doesn't have. It's not simply the 32-horsepower difference in output; it's the snarling tessitura, the free-revving elasticity, and of course the big butt-whacks of torque that hit you in first through fourth as you stir the gears to 7,500 rpm redline. Ya-freakin'-hoo.

A lot of this experience comprises actual, measurable g-forces—that aching neck is no illusion—but at least some of it is due to Ford's sound-scaping. In addition to the 4-inch dual exhausts concussing out the back, Ford has added a couple of small exhaust pipes with resonators that exit just ahead of the rear wheel arches (Ford says it also deleted several pounds of sound-deadening material). Downshifting in this car evokes racy off-throttle overrun sounds—a phlegmy, overheated cough, like Amy Winehouse after a 100-yard dash. This is a stupid and utterly adolescent sound and I'll take two.

However, if I may have a sidebar with the Ford product guys: Enough already. You already have a big sound pipe coming off the intake manifold piping animal noises into the cabin through a hole in the firewall. Now we have these essentially nonfunctional aural exhausts. Why don't you just stick playing cards in the spokes?

In any event, the Boss 302 simply slaughters asphalt. With the launch control engaged, helping to mete out the torque output and wheelspin on the 19-inch Pirelli PZeros, the Boss 302 can accelerate to 60 miles per hour in the low 4's, so say the buff books, and cover the quarter-mile in about 12 seconds. In my week driving the car I didn't drop the sledge well and truly, but it seems to me the car shows better when already moving, say, around 3,000 rpm in second gear, where the meat of the torque curve begins and she really stands up. Stomp the gas and hang on. Get ready to…oh, too late! Redline!

With a nicely calibrated 3.73 rear-axle ratio, well-spaced six-speed manual, and a reas

2012 Ford Mustang Boss 302

  • Base price: $41,105
  • Price as tested: $43,000 (est.)
  • Powertrain: Naturally aspirated, dual-overhead cam, 32-valve V8 with variable valve timing; six-speed manual transmission; rear-wheel drive with limited-slip differential
  • Horsepower/torque: 444 hp at 7,400 rpm/380 pound-feet at 4,500 rpm
  • Length/weight: 188.1 inches/3,600 pounds (est.)
  • 0-60 mph: 4.2 seconds (est.)
  • Wheelbase: 107.1 inches
  • EPA fuel economy: 17/26 mpg, city/highway
  • Cargo capacity: 13.4 cubic feet

onably hoss-y clutch with a smooth, progressive uptake, the Boss 302 goes like zombie stink. Indeed, this car feels a little quicker, not to mention more secure and manageable, than the last Shelby 500GT I drove (which had a 100-plus hp advantage).

Meanwhile, the chassis guys have had another year or so to fine-tune the Boss 302's setup. Among the refinements are five-way adjustable shocks, stiffer springs and a beefier antiroll bar lacing the rear end. The front end has also been lowered 0.4 inch, a difference in posture that pays off in the way the car looks, sulking with its head down, ready for a scrap. The electric-assist power steering and track control now have an intermediate sport setting.

All of these changes incrementally raise the Boss's sport-performance profile over the Mustang GT's: more front-end bite, off-throttle rotation in corners and willingness to get nicely crossed up with corner-exiting power. The car's behavior in transient handling—coping with pitching, yawing and rolling forces—is yet more assured, with roll-couple percentages right where you'd want them. But then, the Mustang chassis team has been doing God's work with the car's traditional solid rear axle for several years now.

Of all the changes, the most important to me is the bigger and better suspension bushings, which are amazingly pliant and comfortable on the street but seem to magically firm up as pace of driving goes up. These are the sorts of highly engineered, cost-extra elastomeric parts that you have no business looking for under such a car and a big reason why the Mustang feels like it should cost more. Or at least should have a better audio system.

The Boss 302 is an amazing car, so amazing that some have compared it to a BMW M3. Yeah, well, that's the peyote talking.

It is true that by the numbers, and in the hands of expert drivers, the Boss 302 is comparably quick around a road course; still, the M3's handling is more balanced, the steering more communicative, and the speed is generally more accessible to gentlemen drivers, if you can find any.

And let's be candid: In amenities, materials and overall sophistication, the M3 is in an entirely different league than the Boss 302.
