The Italian Job: I've owned one car almost 30 years. And hardly driven it.

Our story begins more than four decades ago when I decided I had to buy a sports car.

Angus MacKenzie

Tatty MGBs, I quickly discovered, were going for about $5,000, which was more than I could afford. And when I actually drove one, I was dismayed to discover it had pitiful performance, woeful handling, trucklike steering, and so-so brakes. Sports car? My mom’s Valiant station wagon was faster, cornered better, and had electronics that actually worked.

Assorted Triumphs, Austin Healey Sprites, and MG Midgets were even more expensive and only marginally better to drive. Childhood dreams were shattered: British sports cars of the ’60s and ’70s weren’t actually all that good. But I still needed to scratch that sports car itch.

Alfa Romeo’s original GTV coupe, the one styled by Giugiaro when he worked for Bertone and first seen at the 1963 Turin Motor Show, attracted my attention because of its good looks, its throaty exhaust note, and the fact that used ones were cheaper than MGBs.