Capsule Review: Ford Focus ST

I wish I had more time with the Focus ST, but circumstances conspired to cut my loan short; I was off on the West Coast, driving a hot hatch older than I am, as well as two competitors, the Volkswagen GTI and the Mazdaspeed3. Driving those two back to back gave me some context before I drove the first truly hot Focus since the first-generation SVT version. In Europe, that car was also an ST, dubbed the ST170, because the RS was top dog in Ford of Europe’s hatch hierarchy. I hear that we’ll be getting the next Focus RS as well, complete with the 2.3L Ecoboost, but of course, my Ford sources will neither confirm or deny that.

Squint really hard, and the Focus ST looks just like the Corgi Cosworth toy that my Grandma bought for me at Asda and which I ended up smashing against a Corgi Metropolitan Police Range Rover while engaging in a youthful re-enactment of “The Sweeney”. It must be the Performance Blue paint and the hatch spoiler, which resembles the orca-esque monstrosity that came on the Cossie hatches.

The rest of the car is fairly agressive-looking without being over the top. I would be a little embarrassed to show up for a date or a lunch meeting with the Mazdaspeed3’s goofy mug smiling back at my would-be passenger, but at least with the ST, the front fascia looks appropriate. Hopefully nobody notices the overly large fascia-bumper panel gap.

Exterior styling aside, it’s the interior that will pose the greatest challenge for any occupants. Americans can opt for standard seats, but Canadian market cars only come one way; with the ST3 Package, including the Sony-branded MyFord Touch system and the Recaro seats. As nice as the Recaro’s look, they are absurdly confining; I’m 5’10 and 175 lbs with a 32″ waist, yet I’ve felt more comfortable in one-piece racing buckets. My brother and father, who are around my height but much stockier, were visceral in their criticism of the constricting bolsters. My father in particular raised an interesting point; guys like him (middle-aged, carrying a few extra pounds thanks to a white collar job) are the ones who buy performance cars, but the seats alone would DQ the ST from his list.

After a few days, I was able to look past them – in fact, it’s hard to imagine putting up with the regular Focus seats. This is what the Brit mags would call a “very quick point-to-point car”. At one end of the spectrum, we have the Volkswagen GTI. It’s not quite as performance oriented, but it does drive well while providing an appropriate amount of comfort and refinement. At the other end of the spectrum is the ‘Speed3, which feels like a garage-built tuner car with a warranty. In between those two is the Focus ST.

There’s more power than the GTI, but less than the Mazda. There’s less torque steer than the Mazda but more than the GTI. The ride and handling, steering feel and braking capability are a happy medium between the two. Every reviewer with a keyboard and an HJC DOT helmet seems to have coaxed some kind of “lift off oversteer” from this car. I can’t say I ever really pushed it that hard on public roads, but I also save my most aggressive driving exploits for wheel to wheel competition, a domain notoriously devoid of auto journalists.

On paper, the ST sounds a bit dull and wishy-washy, a true “warm hatch” that’s not much more exciting than a Honda Civic Si. But this car has charm. Mash the gas pedal and keep the wheel pointed straight and you will experience acceleration free of turbo lag and the masculine growl of the ST’s engine note; I don’t care if it’s piped in via a “sound synthesizer” or whatever Ford calls it. It does the job without alerting the outside world (or John Law) of your presence with an obnoxiously loud muffler. Each and every one of the 252 horsepower on tap is useful in the real world of cutting through traffic or taking an on-ramp just a little too quickly, unlike most of today’s steroid-enhanced sports cars, where driving them on the street makes you feel like you’re firing a Ma Deuce from the 5 yard line of an indoor gun range.

Of course, the ST has its flaws. The shifter is abominable, with an action that feels like rowing a broomstick through a tub of Greek yogurt. The pedal placement for heel-and-toeing was also all wrong, though that may be a function of my size 11.5 shoes. The Sony-branded MyFord Touch system wasn’t nearly as infuriating as previous iterations, but I’d rather not have to unplug my iPhone three times just to be able to access my music. I never got close to the EPA ratings of 23/32 mpg either, but again, caveat emptor.

There’s a lot to like about this car; the power, the looks, the fact that I could fit my Costco groceries and a bicycle in the back of the hatch with ease. But in Canada, the ST comes out to about $34,000, plus 13 percent sales tax, which is a crapload of money for a guy like me. For comparison, a Mustang V6 with the Performance Package and Recaros (which may not be as lithe, but would lay waste to an ST in any objective performance category) is about $4000 cheaper and probably gets equivalent or better gas mileage. Even financing a Focus ST over 84 months means payments of about $450 a month, and I’d be paying off a complex, electronics-laden car long past its warranty period. And OEMs wonder why young people aren’t buying new cars anymore.