When the Volkswagen R32 first arrived stateside, enthusiasts gave the hot hatch a hero’s welcome. The all wheel-drive, VR6-powered Alpha rabbit made its pre-GTI siblings look like a bunch of ectomorphic accountants at a supermodel slumber party. The R32 was rare, fast, agile, sharp-looking and tighter than the Osmond family at Thanksgiving dinner. The latest version is all that, again, with the notable addition of the world’s best gearbox. And yet the R32’s suddenly become a deeply unloved (if not unlovable) automobile. So who shot JR?

If I had a life, I wouldn’t be writing this review; I would have walked straight past the R32. Other than 10-spoke alloy wheels and a chromed Billy the Big Mouth Bass snout mit R32 logo, there’s nothing to distinguish the top Golf from a flanking GTI. Oh sure, VW cultists will tell you the R32’s tail pipes sit center instead of flush left, it’s got blue brake calipers instead of red, etc. Anyone else would have an easier time choosing a date from a pair of identical twins than distinguishing between the two uber-Golfs.

So, aside from dangerously anal brand fans, status conscious drivers need not apply. Inside, same deal. The R32 is a GTI with all options ticked plus the letter “R” embossed on the leather headrests and Engine Spin trim. While it’s backwards-facing baseball caps off to VW for eschewing faux carbon fiber, Spin trim does my head in. I have enough trouble with grained wood that feels like plastic; the same tactile transmogrification on milled aluminum causes serious synaptic distress.

Despite talk of a 300-horse R36, the new R32 is what we got– two years after its Eurozone debut. No question: the new R32 arrived D.O.A. Its killer? The Golf GTI Mk V– which is a better driver’s car, for a lot less money.