IT might have looked like it was designed using Etch-A-Sketch, but the British Leyland Metro was a little car with a big job on its hands when it first hit forecourts 25 years ago.
The state-owned manufacturer believed it had a car which would be the saviour of the British motor industry. It was a massively economical successor to Alex Issigonis's classic Mini - 83 miles per gallon at a vastly inconvenient 30mph - which would help rid the UK of marauding foreign brands.
BL even rustled up commercials aping the famous Dad's Army opening credits, with the arrows representing the Tommies pushing back Hitler's troops replaced by an elite squad of Metros repelling European marques.
In truth, Metro owed its very existence to the financial woes which led British Leyland to decide that it desperately needed to field a competitor in the burgeoning supermini sector.
Unpatriotic as it might now seem, the Press had a field day with the slow labour of BL's new baby. And little wonder. It took £275m of taxpayers money and a complete overhaul of the Longbridge car plant before BL's dream became a reality.
Motorshow
It first went on show at the British Motorshow with the option of either a 998cc or 1275cc A-Plus engine and was welcomed on to the roads by flag waving enthusiasts. But it didn't take long for the honeymoon period to end. A friend of a friend recalls attending the dealer launch of new Metro and discovering to his horror that the bright yellow car chosen for the event already had rusty hatchback hinges.
There were further concerns about poor build quality and reliability, but it wasn't long before the Metro won a place in the heart of the British motorist.
Millions of 30-somethings like myself learned to drive in a Metro, there were even "sexy" versions of the diminutive car to be had, and at the end of its production run, Rover was still selling 40,000 Metros
My personal experience of the MG Metro Turbo occurred on the day a pal arrived at my door to show off his new car and take me for a spin.
What he didn't tell me was that he hadn't passed his test and that he'd been drinking!
Having made my excuses and bailed out around 500m later, I can vouch for the fact that a ride can also be exhilarating! And let's not forget that even Lady Diana Spencer had a Metro to whisk her around London in the days when she was still a nanny.
The Metro was face-lifted in 1984 when a five-door version of the car was added to the range. The next significant change came in 1990 when Rover's Metro/100 series car continued to serve as ideal second car fodder for thousands of British households.
Rover
It's fair to say that the launch of the Rover 100 in 1995 was greeted with more of a whimper than a bang.
Rover's plan was that the 100 would eventually retire just in time to hand over to the all-new Mini developed under the stewardship of BMW. Unfortunately, the thorny issue of safety got in the way.
All but condemned by a terrible Euro NCAP crash test rating, the car once considered a suitable saviour for the British motoring industry never quite lived up to its billing. What it did manage, however, was a far better innings that the terrible CityRover, a vehicle which might be considered its spiritual successor.
And who'd have thought that the bland little box on wheels would one day be remembered as a car which could be sexy, exhilarating and driven by the A-list and criminal community alike.
