The Jaguar F-Type is no more.
Since 2013, the two-seater has served as the legendary British marque’s only remaining sports car, but it was jettisoned earlier this year with the very last example built in June, which is now on its way to the Jaguar Heritage collection.
You see, Jaguar has committed to going all-electric in 2025 to satisfy parent company Jaguar-Land Rover’s environmental targets, and so it was time for its glorious two-door V8 to seek greener pastures.
In total, the automaker produced 87,731 units of the F-Type over its 11 years on the market.
Jaguar’s local subsidiary was kind enough to hear our pleas and give us one final taste of its continental cruiser before they’re all snapped up by well-to-do speculators and collectors, and what an emotional farewell it was.
The final hurrah
To mark its 75 years in the game of internal-combustion sports cars, Jaguar aptly called the last F-Type sold to “normal” customers the 75.
The special model is identifiable through its dark badging, black finishes, and 20-inch five-spoke wheels that lend it a properly imposing presence on the road.
Doing duty under the hood is a 5.0-litre, supercharged V8 powerplant which in the standard 75 generates “only” 331kW and 580Nm. In the R75, it’s tuned for a stonking 423kW and 700Nm.
Drive is relayed to all four tyres via an eight-speed Quickshift transmission with paddle shifters, and it features an active rear differential with torque vectoring to help drivers keep the beast under control.
The sprint from 0-100km/h is dispensed in 4.6 seconds and if you have room to do so, you can go all the way up to 285km/h.
The numbers give you an indication of what the F-Type is capable of but they don’t communicate the rawness of the experience.
Sitting low with the long nose stretched out in front and wide haunches in the rear-view mirrors, it instills a sense of power being in control of this Jag’.
Stamp the accelerator and you are violently flung back into the seat as it lunges forward and opens up its throat with loud pops and bangs.
The smoothness with which the massive engine picks up pace is mindboggling and the explosive exhaust notes that accompany it are euphoric, in fact, the noises this thing makes are arguably the best part of the entire affair.
Crafted at Gaydon Engineering Centre in the UK, Jaguar went through 85 iterations of F-Type tailpipes before the production version was settled on, and to say there’s room for improvement would be an objective fallacy.
During the week I drove past several Italian and German sports cars that may be quicker and more expensive than the Jaguar, but they sounded nowhere near as mesmerising.
The burble is so iconic that there are now high-quality recordings of it stored in The British Library so that future generations never forget what a Jaguar V8 sounded like, and rightly so.
Somewhat unexpectedly, the ride of the F-Type is supple.
Perched upon sticky tyres with thin sidewalls and sporty suspension, I anticipated it would feel nervous, hard, perhaps jumpy.
The actual experience was far from it.
Yes you have to take bumps at an angle not to scrape the nose which can make piloting it around the city a bit of a hassle, but it’s pliable in traffic and when settled in on the open road the comfort levels are not far away from that of a luxury SUV.
Handle the F-Type with care, and it can also carve up a curvy backroad like a skilled butcher. Even with all-wheel drive, it’s not averse to kicking out the tail on slipperier surfaces should its handler be so inclined.
The driving sensation is excellent, and I found the F-Type to be perfectly liveable once you spend a day or two cocooned in its lavish Windsor leather Performance seats.
Visibility is excellent for such a low-slung coupe and cabin space is generous. On my first drive home I struggled with headroom, but after committing to spending a few minutes tinkering with the 12-way electric seats I found a position that was highly accommodating.
The materials and touchpoints are of the highest quality as expected from a nameplate like Jaguar.
It has creature comforts aplenty, too, like a large digital instrument cluster with heaps of information, heated and ventilated seats, a heated steering wheel, a deep-throated Meridian sound system, and climate control.
The 10-inch central display with wired smartphone mirroring looks somewhat dated in this day and age and isn’t the snappiest I’ve used before, and the sun visors are hilariously tiny, though both performed their jobs with zero issues.
It also offers several electronic intervention systems to help keep your F-Type out of harm’s way, encompassing front and rear parking sensors, a reverse camera, lane-keep assist, cruise control, emergency brake assist, and driver fatigue monitoring.
Verdict
The F-Type may lose a grip battle to a Porsche around a racetrack and fall behind a Ferrari in a straight line, but it’s drop-dead gorgeous, more comfortable than a hot hatch, and it sounds like a rabid lion.
It’s a special thing this Jag’ and it’s truly heartbreaking that it is no longer being built, especially since it was sacrificed to a contemporary movement that is already losing steam and will probably not be as revolutionary as its proponents claim.
I recently saw an article from 1973 that said all cars would be electric by the year 2000. You don’t need me to tell you this didn’t happen, not even close.
Headlines like these have popped up left, right, and centre over the past decade again, claiming that 2025 would be the year of electric cars, or 2030, or 2035, or whatever year some analyst’s computer spits out.
The reality is the goalposts keep getting moved, the goal isn’t scored, and it may never be.
I can’t help but feel that Jaguar made too hasty of a decision to abandon its roots, one that may not pay off in the long run, but alas, what’s done is done, and I hope it works out for the best. An electric Jag’ is better than no Jag’ at all.
Owners and collectors, don’t do the rest of us a disservice.
Drive your F-Types, show them off to the world, and don’t worry about residual values. It’s meant to be king of the urban jungle, not a garage queen.
Jaguar F-Type 75
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