Audi RS 3 Sportback vs. Mercedes-AMG A45 World Champion Edition vs. Volkswagen Golf GTI Clubsport
Features | EVO Middle East
Against the two fastest hot hatches on the planet – the Mercedes-AMG A45 World Champion Edition and the Audi RS 3 Sportback – does the quickest Volkswagen Golf GTi James has ever driven still have what it takes?
Originally posted – 4 July, 2016 | crankandpiston.com
It’s mid-afternoon in the mountains just outside Fujairah. Having covered our fair share of sinuous mountain asphalt over the last two hours, our convoy has just crunched its way onto a very dry former lakebed for the final leg of our photoshoot. Dust crumbles away from the cracked surface as each tyre crawls along and lingers almost ominously in the air around us, dissipating the rays of the afternoon sun as it does so. The only audible sound is heated metallic panelling ticking itself cool. Eerily, we’ve somehow ended up in prehistoric Utah.
This is where my focus should be. But instead, it’s drawn by an argument that’s broken out amongst the evo team: the new Audi RS 3 Sportback, the Mercedes-AMG A45 and the Volkswagen Golf GTI Clubsport each has an ardent supporter, igniting the prospect of a dead heat.
Understandable, for here is a group that truly highlights how far the humble hot hatch and the expectations of performance thereof have developed over the years. When it was first released back in 1975 for instance, the first generation Golf GTI boasted 108bhp, weighed just over 800kg, and took close to nine seconds to get to 100kph. By comparison, the Clubsport anniversary edition we’re testing today produces 178bhp MORE than its forefather, weighs in excess of 1,300kg and gets the run to the ton done in just under six seconds.
It’s a prospect that raises further eyebrows when you consider the Clubsport is not even the fastest hot hatch of our group, as it’s flanked by both the fastest production hot hatch on the planet – the 376bhp AMG A45 – and the model it top trumped for that accolade, the 362bhp RS 3. This is the kind of power that could legitimately give the Porsche 718 Boxster a run for its money in a straight line.
Indeed, my evo colleague Jamil’s initial enthusiasm for the Audi has already been rubberstamped by the speed delivery of the RS 3’s 2.5-litre turbocharged five cylinder. An enthusiasm initially ignited by the cabin design, a point he proves by swinging the door open. All consideration for photographer Arun’s setup are immediately forgotten, much to his barely contained chagrin.
Jamil does have a point. The RS 3 cabin is indicative of Ingolstadt’s typically excellent build quality, complete with swathes of leather upholstery, aluminium switchgear, and beautifully gripping Sport Seats. It’s in the details though that the Audi really impresses: when not in use, the infotainment screen slides elegantly into the dashboard; the removable closed-top ashtray has been embossed with the four rings; save a rotary dial and a couple of switches, there’s barely any switchgear to clutter the centre console. Plus, on the highway, Jamil assures me that the ride comfort, even despite some specially stiffened suspension, is excellent before defiantly resting his case.
Impressive opening argument, and the Audi cabin does indeed look stunning. If perhaps a little sensible. This after all is a hot hatch, a ballistically powered and – let’s be frank – quite pricey one too at just under $60K. Save a dash of Alacantara on the flat-bottomed steering wheels and red cross-stitching, where’s the flamboyance? You could say the same of the outside too, the chromed wing mirrors, some flashy 18in alloys and duplicate ‘RS’ badges about it in terms of shoutiness.
Not a problem the Mercedes-AMG suffers, chimes owner Mohammed Al-Yassi. The A45 has never shied from extrovert styling: tail-lip spoilers, gaping air intakes and ‘AMG’ badges up the whazoo are just the opening layer of a very shouty cake. The World Champion Edition with us today only adds to that visual loudness.
Produced in limited numbers to celebrate Mercedes’ double Formula 1 titles last year, a silver and ‘petrol green’ livery, a larger front splitter, a green rim flange (yikes!), and stonking great rear spoiler don’t so much ‘nod’ to parallels with the championship winning F1 W06 as knock them down and kick them in the teeth. Even Lewis Hamilton’s signature adorns the bonnet. This is also the very first – and, at present, only – World Champion example in the Middle East. Mohammed is a big fan of AMG’s pocket rocket, even going so far as to buy this example sight unseen. It’s no surprise the A45 is his favourite of the three.
In the evo office car park this morning though, my eyes went straight to the Golf. Unveiled at Wörthersee last year, the Clubsport celebrates 40 years of the iconic ‘GTI’ badge, and Volkswagen has added much more than just a new paint finish. A deeper front splitter, and rear diffuser means the Clubsport is the first Golf to both generate downforce and reduce lift. There’s a new rear spoiler too, some rather cheeky ‘Clubsport’ lettering down the flanks in a nod to the original GTI, and an enticing ‘boost function’ for the 2-litre turbo four-cylinder: pin the throttle and for ten seconds, peak horsepower rises from 261bhp to 286bhp, making the Clubsport the most powerful production GTI we’ve driven.
When the firing pin is pulled though, there’s no spine-tingling boom of exhaust notes. Rather a low metallic four-pot warble that does pale in comparison with the more emphatic Audi and Merc. Fears that the Clubsport lacks sporting character though would be fruitless, as tartan check cloth seats, faux carbon fibre detailing and some ‘GTI’ doorsills check those boxes adequately. Impressively, even with its stiffened suspension and a revised chassis setup, the ride comfort offers more cosseting damping than both the Merc and the Audi, an MQB platform it ironically shares with the latter. Plus, as we’ve come to expect from the Golf, both seating position and support are exceptional. Tick, tick, very much tick from the Clubsport. Then it hits the corners.
The neutral balance remains one of the GTI’s most revered qualities, its ability to remain flat and composed through the turns not undone by that additional power. Quite the opposite in fact. Those chassis tweaks make the Clubsport feel altogether more lithe and athletic over the standard GTI, which was hardly an unwieldy shopping trolley to begin with. Clad out with super sticky Michelin Pilot Sport Cup tyres means massive amounts of grip and, as a result, makes for a much stronger front end: whereas previously the GTI could occasionally teeter on the brink of understeer, both the level of grip and ceaseless traction means at road speeds the Clubsport never threatens to become ragged. Turn-in hard and the tyres just bite, allowing me to get back on the power more quickly, there’s never a threat that the nose will just limply wash wide. Consistent steering has never been an issue for the Golf, but more weight has been dialled in, making the Clubsport even easier to hustle.
The depths with which I can lean on the front end are incredible, as is the mid-corner adjustability. The Clubsport’s agility through the switchbacks starts to feel almost instinctive. It’s an engagement I haven’t felt behind the wheel for quite some time, and it’s enormously satisfying.
It’s the power delivery that really peaks my interest though. Boot the right pedal off the line and there’s very faint traces of torque steer, but fortunately not enough to unsettle the front end considerably. We’ve lauded VW’s DSG gearbox many times in the past, and smooth and swift gear changes are once again the order of the day. It’s the acceleration though that gets me, deep reserves of torque across the board keeping turbo lag at arm’s length and a top end that nudges the red line in tandem producing a beautifully progressive pick-up. It might lack – as I later find out – the explosive nature of the Audi and the Mercedes, but it’s beautifully, wonderfully, fantastically spirited.
I already love the Clubsport. Completely. Making it a horribly tough act to follow, akin to Miley Cyrus doing a double set after The Beatles. Jamil’s still not convinced though, leading to a swapping of keys as he decants himself into the VW and I into the Audi.
The five-cylinder soundtrack blows the VW’s four-cylinders into the Cretaceous dust cloud. Granted, this bass does dip on the move and doesn’t quite match the initial fury under start-up, but hold the lower gears, and it’s a mighty punch to the eardrums. And the spine.
It’s devastatingly rapid, and the power delivery is immense, particularly lower down the range when the turbocharger really begins to get into its stride. It’s a far cry from the more subdued speed pick-up of the VW, which has already begun to disappear on the straights. Into the corners, there are herculean amounts of grip for immense turn-in bite, allowing me to carry much more speed than I’d expected. With each passing corner, suddenly there’s renewed bravery to lean on the front end even harder courtesy of the traction delivered through that Quattro all-wheel drive system.
There’s a key difference though to the VW. Yes, there’s an enormous amount of grip, but there’s also a slightly deadened sensation through the steering and – more importantly – an additional 145kg to consider. Compared with the 1,375kg VW and the 1,480kg Merc, the lardy Audi tips the scales at 1,520kg, which can be felt. When you eventually break traction, the front tyres will start to scrub, necessitating a balance in the RS 3 between corner entry speed and out-and-out front-end muscle. Certainly the stopping power of the brakes is more than capable under such circumstances, but extended runs will eventually have these calling for ‘time out.’ Adjustments mid-corner prove rather more difficult though, as the chassis is not quite as tight on the Audi and thus doesn’t corner anywhere near as flat as the Clubsport.
There are a couple of saving graces, however. The stiffened suspension doesn’t seem to have affected the ride quality, the wishbones soaking all but the most rutted of surfaces. Similarly, downshifts through the seven-speed may lack responsiveness but the crisp, almost ratchet-like shots fired by the gear changes on the way up the box do a solid job igniting the barely controlled fury that is that turbocharged five-cylinder. I would take a stab at the overly light steering in Comfort were it not for surprisingly constant heft lock-to-lock in Dynamic, and the fact that this is a notable improvement over the less precise, more lurching nature of the first-generation model it replaces. Digs aside, Audi has done a stellar job turning the RS 3 around.
Back on the lake bed, individual shots of the Mercedes are being wrapped up, and Mohammed is busy taking notes: as well as being an all-round top bloke, he’s also a prolific photographer, and he’s busy picking Arun’s brain. He’s also pawing at the keys to the Audi to compare notes, glibly handing me the AMG keys. There’s a smile as he does so. I’ve just mentioned the power and the delivery of the Audi. He assures me I’ve seen nothing yet.
He’s right.
At first, there’s nothing overly dramatic to the A45, speed building gradually, albeit quickly, towards the 2,500rpm mark. It’s here that the turbo makes its first strike, the punch of momentum such that those closeting Sport Seats take on an all-new significance as they prevent me from rolling into the boot. Like the RS 3, the A45 is blisteringly quick, though the manner of its delivery – combined with a more booming soundtrack – is altogether more aggressive. And characterful.
Mechanically, there’s no difference between the World Champion Edition and the base A45 on which it sits. Consequently, handling is much as we’ve experienced before. Like the Audi, the Mercedes grins through gritted teeth as you muscle the nose through the corners with no real degree of finesse. Admittedly there is slightly more consistency to the steering than in the RS 3, but both still feel vague and limited on feedback compared with the Clubsport, an element the (pre-update) A45 was particularly lambasted for.
Where the AMG does pull back points is with its neutral balance through the corners, the stiffened chassis allowing the Merc to corner beautifully flat regardless of Drive mode. My personal recommendation would be ‘Sport’ handling and ‘Race’ drivetrain, the former of which makes less tangible difference to the ride quality while the latter unlocks the full fury of that 2-litre turbocharged four-cylinder.
Admittedly you could slide a sheet of paper between the specsheets of the 362bhp Audi and the 376bhp Merc: both staple 100kph a tenth apart at just a hair above four seconds flat, they’re split by 40kg in the Merc’s favour, and they hit their respective showrooms separated by $1,200 (though the World Champion Edition’s price tag leaps by nearly $10K purely down to its exclusivity). But there’s a degree more charisma, if not aggression, about the Mercedes that draws me closer to it than the more refined, more sensible Audi. Yes, part of me wants to poke fun at the World Champion tinsel (sorry Mohammed) and yet, it appeals. It just feels right for an AMG, even if I can only admit this whilst chewing my knuckle.
Where the Audi does win back some cachet against its countryman is under braking. The stopping power is similarly impressive on the Merc, but limited travel in the pedal offers less confidence when the anchors are not being fully thrown out. Similarly Audi’s more elegant cabin design, despite lacking a certain joie de vivre, gets the nod between the two. And though the more aggressive pick-up of the Merc’s four-pot is more charismatic than the Audi’s five-cylinder, it’s the latter that ultimately puts a wider grin on my face.
Back at base, our deadlock continues. Even despite his drive in the Clubsport, the Audi’s brute strength under turn-in, the almost endless reserves of power in its tank, and the RS 3’s deliberately understated design have won Jamil over completely. He’s a fan of the GTI as most of us are, but by comparison, he just finds the Clubsport too ‘normal’. Mohammed is similarly chuffed – hardly surprising – with the Merc’s over-the-top nature of the package and its more outlandish character as strongly today as when he first reached for his deposit cheque. That and an explosive, almost deceptive turn of speed that could rotate your kidneys.
And me? Well, I’m still not convinced. Yes, the Audi is breath-takingly quick, its manoeuvrability under cornering, despite a few question marks, is still impressive and the beautifully crafted cabin goes a significant way to vindicating that $8K(ish) price gulf over the Clubsport S it would realistically rival on the showroom floor. Still the RS 3 lacks a certain sense of accomplishment: the ‘turn-in and hold on’ approach is exciting in its own way, but not as engaging as the Volkswagen, which proves considerably lighter on its feet. Ditto the Mercedes, even despite the more rancorous speed pick-up and impressive composure through the longer sweeping corners. To me, neither quite nail the principal of a hot hatch.
The GTI Clubsport is another matter. My diplomatic side yearns to end the story with all three of us shaking hands, agreeing to disagree. But I can’t. The agility through the turns, the weighty but not overpowering feel through the steering, and the spirited turns of speed that don’t offset an almost perfect balance between grunt and composure. Throw in revised bodywork that’s both traditional and charmingly modern, and Volkswagen has done a masterful job celebrating 40 years of the Golf GTI. As well as being the best hot hatch here today, in my opinion anyway, the Clubsport is also the best Golf GTI yet.
Images | Awesome Group and Arun M Nair
Features | EVO Middle East | James Gent