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" As soon as I hit the brakes, I knew I&amp;#039;d be leaving the pavement. A field lay beyond the concrete, and I hoped the greenery wasn&amp;#039;t wet, because nothing accelerates faster than a car sliding on wet grass. A hundred yards away, a dirt wall loomed.  Four hours earlier, as the entire staff prepared to hit the track for our first-ever Performance Car of the Year test, I reminded everyone that if they put four wheels on the grass, they&amp;#039;d have to cool off for a while and possibly sit out the entire thing. I was about to become not only That Guy, but also the killjoy for what was shaping up to be an epic day.  You can read a detailed account of our adventure\u2014one day at the track, two days on some of the greatest roads in the country, and the best fast cars launched this year. During all that delicious mayhem, one question gnawed at each of us: How do you define performance?  The easy way would be to look at our now-expanded test results and crown the fastest car the winner. You could also argue that a lap time at the Motown Mile, our new and gnarly home track, should determine the champ. But as much as we love the figures and obsess over obtaining them, the numbers don&amp;#039;t tell us what we really want to know: What&amp;#039;s the experience? What does it feel like? The human connection with cars is complicated, a cocktail of emotions tied to things like steering feel, sound, and design. For us, &amp;quot;performance&amp;quot; is a holistic parameter, a car that tweaks us in the right way. And while speed is huge, these days, you can get it almost anywhere. If over half a century of this magazine has taught us anything, it&amp;#039;s that feel is the deal-breaker. Which is why we spent time not just on a track, but on our favorite back roads.   The debates over each car&amp;#039;s merits waged during the three days of our test. At some point, every member of the staff remarked as to how well-rounded the sports car has become. We&amp;#039;ve definitely lost a few things (namely steering feel, thanks to electric power assist), and manual gearboxes are growing harder to find. On the plus side, all but one of the cars we tested endured three days of constant hard use without any obvious failings. If we&amp;#039;d done this 15 years ago, we&amp;#039;d have chewed up brakes, tires, and God knows what else. On top of that\u2014and it&amp;#039;s possible to read this as a negative, but let&amp;#039;s call it a good thing for now\u2014modern performance cars are so refined that you just plain forget how fast you&amp;#039;re going.  At least, that&amp;#039;s my excuse. In the BMW M6, I rounded the Motown Mile&amp;#039;s kink somewhere north of 130 mph. I barely noticed the speed and so didn&amp;#039;t brake for the upcoming hairpin until it was too late. There was an instant of panic, then I accepted the inevitable, straightening the car and shooting into the grass.  The dread in these moments, when you have time to watch your screw-up as it happens, is like a 747 sitting on your chest. It felt like the car didn&amp;#039;t slow once off the pavement, but it must have, because at the last moment, I turned the wheel. Shockingly, the front end bit, the car steered away from doom, and I gingerly eased back onto the track. Maybe, I thought, no one noticed. The ribbing the staff gave me for the next two weeks was entirely deserved. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.roadandtrack.com/car-culture/a5835/editors-letter-65-5-roa0114/>