Minneapolis Street Sighting: Hyundai Tiburon FX

For all automotive blogs, there is always one "first"; and this little sporty compact marks a somewhat significant first. Up until now, it never occurred to me that one day I would be writing about the Korean cars that I grew up with. But, in 2015, here we are.

 On the surface, writing about a Hyundai isn't a far fetched idea; after all, this is the company that made their name in the US with the diminutive Excel hatchback--and its sedan counterpart. Within years of introducing the Americas to their little hatchback, the company rolled out a sporty little hatchback, called the S'coupe in our market. For the rest of the world, the car was known as quite simply, "Coupe". Yep, Hyundai just added the letter "S" to the name and called it good. Good enough for us, anyway.

In 1997, the S'coupe was renamed the Tiburon for the US market, and with that name came a full reskin with styling that somehow looked dated as soon as it arrived, better powerplants, and the lack of a focused sport model. Oops.  A few years later, the first generation Tiburon was given a facelift, which arguably hindered the looks rather than helped them. Oh well, you live, you learn, I guess.

Like most Minnesota cars of this vintage (and I hate using the word "vintage" to describe a Tiburon, to be honest), this little coupe is rather used; dents, dings, doors that don't quite shut properly, and more scars than an open-heart patient. Not exactly standing the test of time very well, is it?

On the surface, this example is pretty beat up, but as I try to recall the last Tiburon of this era I came across...well, that's kind of hard; I hardly see these at all, so this example quite possibly be the best one I've ever seen--at least in recent memory. Even with pitted paint, faint evidence of surface rust (that's probably hiding more under the skin, and odd panel gaps, this particular car is quite clean.

All the wheels were remarkable curb-free, the badges were all in one piece,  including the oft-broken trunklid nameplate script. And inside, this little Korean coupe looked almost *new*. Okay, that was probably a stretch, but the interior didn't show nearly half the  beating the exterior had endured.

Was this a worthy subject? I think it was, mainly because the vehicle itself is either a) largely forgotten, even by sport-compact enthusiasts and b) likely close to one-of-a-kind at this point. I am honestly proud that I took time to stop and look.