Clearly, you could have someone else tightening the various bolts for you, but the thought of showing a socket set to this GT3 is an appealing one; if only because the latest model, infamously shorn of its manual gearbox, radiates technological aloofness.
As there is no mechanical adjustment to differentiate the Clubsport, it, too, is defined by the blasphemous new powertrain – a black-box partnership of such malevolent, moreish ferocity that its 9000rpm impact leaves a scowling mark on the memory banks. Mourn the six-speeder, but it’s hard to imagine impeding the GT3’s progress with anything as rudimentary as a pedal and lever. Short of sequential blinking, ice-pick paddles feel all the world like an appropriate way to pluck at the PDK’s shortened ratios.
Any nagging doubt that the fiercest ‘991’-generation 911 yet would have altered during its pigeon-step into production is duly eradicated within moments. Comparison with the previous ‘997’ GT3 will be protracted but, truthfully, the change in Carrera template brings the current 911 more often to mind. It is that car’s supple athleticism which has been preserved, distilled and re-administered to a stiffer, leaner and wider body.
Likewise, the agility and potency simmering somewhere below the 991’s unruffled surface have been brought steadily to boil by not only the far sharper chassis set-up, but also the notably better means of aiming it down the road. Quite how Porsche has engineered such sinewy resistance into its electrically powered steering rack remains a mystery, but it is the fleshy weight, hint of kickback and measured eagerness that keeps both hands wedded to the Alcantara-clad wheel, and so compulsively involved at all speeds.
Around this desirable cake, the Clubsport’s embellishments orbit like proverbial cherries. The bucket seats feel a little broader than before and certainly better cushioned. The lightweight carbonfibre-reinforced plastic shells still want for a bit more shoulder support, but your hips are largely invulnerable to lateral excess.
With no structural part to play (save for holding up the roof if you dump the car on it), the scaffolding’s effect is chiefly spatial – robbing the rear of a useful perch, yet brimming it with utilitarian swagger and a useful dose of extra confidence should you choose to challenge the limits of the GT3’s mighty grip.