By Corky Guenther

“So, you want to own a Sports Car? Gee, I bet they’re fun!” is the refrain occasionally delivered in a W. C. Fields nasal twang by my best navy buddy, Bob. He, at the time, proudly - and usually happily - owned an MGTD MKII. I first met Bob in 1965 when we were in the same Inertial Navigator class in the Navy’s Guided Missile School in Dam Neck, VA. Turned out though that we had been paralleling each other across the country, he from Texas and I from Iowa, since at least 1956 when we each took trips to Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico. Followed by the Valley Forge Jamboree in 1957 and less than stellar college experiments. We were in the same class, but different companies in Navy Boot Camp in San Diego, Electronics “A” school at Treasure Island and Submarine School in New London. From there, we were each assigned to a conventional WWII submarine based in New London for approximately a year and then to Guided Missile School in Dam Neck, (Virginia Beach), VA. After a year at GMS Dam Neck, we each got orders to different conventional submarines based in Charleston, SC and figured that we would go our separate ways. Turned out not, quite yet. We both were ordered to the Blue Crew of the USS Henry Clay, a Polaris Guided Missile submarine. After 6 patrols (about 3 years) I was ordered back to Dam Neck as an instructor. Bob made one more patrol, was discharged and moved to Rochester, NY where he bought the aforementioned TD and joined the local MG Car Club. We visited regularly and my adolescent fire in the belly for a TC was stoked by the exposure. In May of 1974 I bought one.

This refrain came to mind Sunday. It was a great day for a drive, the temperature was predicted to be a record high, and so we started off in the TC. About 6 miles from home, it developed a miss. I pulled over and said to Priscilla that it must be time to change the plugs. A little background is in order. In February of 2015 after a bent fender we started what turned out to be a year and a half major refresh of the TC which included a complete engine rebuild. We later found that is possible to install the rocker shaft backwards and when that happens, no oil is delivered to the valve gear and it will only run so long on assembly lube. We rebuilt the head again and started over. We made the trip to MG 2016 in Louisville but found that the plugs were oil fouling on a regular basis. Ditto for the trip to the NEMGTR GOF in NH last fall.

Meanwhile, the B had been scheduled for installation if an AC system this winter. There is a big box of parts sitting in the garage as testimony to the intent. However in April while sitting at a traffic light, it suffered a bent left rear quarter courtesy of a small dog jumping into the car owner’s lap (he said). Anyway, this has precipitated a major refresh of the B and a minor rebuild of its engine. The original plan was to just regasket the engine to “dry it out” but when we removed the tappet chest covers, we discovered that one cam lobe and lifter were severely worn and a couple of the other lifters were not great. The plan evolved and got extended to a new cam and valve train overhaul as well as new bearing shells etc. We’re leaving the bores, pistons and rings untouched. I’m waiting for the completion of the head overhaul and the plan was to complete its reassembly before disassembling the TC again.

Back to the TC in the Hudson CVS parking lot. I pulled the plugs and found the numbers 1 and 2 were completely fouled while 3 and 4 were on their way. I installed new plugs and started it up. It was running, but just barely. Pulling the plug wires in sequence resulted in no noticeable effect when wires 3 and four were pulled. Head scratching ensued. I swapped the plugs from 1 and 2 with 3 and 4 just for drill. No change. At this point we decided to head back home on however many cylinders were functioning. We dropped the top on our faithful Japanese servant (Miata) and went for our planned drive.

“So, you want to own a Sports Car. Gee I bet they’re fun!” Somedays not so much.

Proof that the cars do run . . . somedays!