At first look, the Jaguar XJ series—specifically the X308 model produced from 1997 to 2003—looks like "grandpa’s car." It is sleek and shiny, yes, but it’s also very long and looks dated. One assumes it isn't even very fast. But it sits low, very low—like a sports car. It’s confusing.

You open the door and find more "grandpa stuff": heavy leather, wood veneers, and an analog clock on the dash. For a car that doesn’t look particularly quick, it has an incredibly long hood. One wonders what is hiding under all that steel; surely nothing too interesting. Then there is the "leaper" hood ornament. That does look cool. Most people don’t know this, but you can turn it around to face you, as if the Jaguar is glaring right into your soul. Still, the car looks old.

You stand in front of it and you can’t miss that crouch—that long, cigar-like shape with the slight bulge in the middle. It looks stylish, you can’t argue with that. But grandpa looks stylish in a nice suit, too; it doesn’t mean he’s a sprinter.

"Wonder what it sounds like. Let’s turn the key."

The ignition is mild and smooth. They say it’s a V8—it says so on the door, too—but it doesn’t sound like any other V8. You couldn’t miss the bark of a Mustang ignition; this is more like a purr. Perhaps a drive will tell us what it can do. Let’s take it from Santa Monica to Malibu.

Whoa. That’s a smooth acceleration. How did we get to the end of the street so quickly? The Sapphire Blue pops as the sun hits it on the way down the California Incline toward the PCH. The ride is effortless, and the car truly "leaps" when you give it the gas. Not so slow after all—though it still doesn’t sound like a "real" V8. The traffic is a bit lighter today since it’s winter; let’s see what it can do on the open road.

The Awakening

Suddenly, we’re past Will Rogers State Beach. The PCH has narrowed to two lanes and is about to start winding. One has to admit, this thing is quicker than it looks. We are first out of the gates at every traffic light. Went into that curve a bit too hot—it came up a lot faster than expected—but the car just holds. This thing can move.

The steering is light and effortless. Can’t believe we cleared that bend at 55 mph. Is it possible? Does it sit even lower to the road than it looks from the outside? It must. This is quick; all the other cars are left behind in the bends. We are actually accelerating out of those corners, exiting faster than we entered. It is firm on the road, it doesn’t move an inch. Can it go even faster? Should one try? Palms are sweating. Is this excitement or adrenaline?

At this speed, a ticket from the CHP feels inevitable. But can you hold back? This is exhilarating, yet the cabin remains so quiet. Is this really a V8? Everything is silent, just the hum of the tires on the asphalt. Then, finally, a growl as we power out of a corner. That Mustang just moved over! That doesn't happen in California, yet here we are, past him. The Mustang can’t even keep up through the bends; he’s gone. For twenty miles, we are the Number One car on the road. No challengers.

Iron Fist, Velvet Glove

All of those emotions are the truth of the X308. It can be a driver’s car, a pretty cruiser, or grandpa’s car. What it isn't is boring. The AJ-V8 engine, built specifically for the X308 starting in 1997, was a massive departure from Jaguar's lineage of straight-sixes and V12s. The vision was to build an "iron fist in a velvet glove." It delivered.

The naturally aspirated version puts out 290 hp, climbing to 370 hp in the supercharged models. This car was the definitive end of the great cigar-shaped saloons from Sir William Lyons’ vision and Geoff Lawson's legendary design. That low ground clearance is no accident; the car’s center of gravity is so low that the faster you go, the more it feels sucked to the asphalt. It was designed for stellar handling and great velocity.

Very few cars were ever made that were so beautiful, so powerful, and so luxurious all at once — in a package an everyday person could aspire to acquire. It is a car built to always be Number One on the road. Never Number Two.