I can distinctly remember when Harry specced RX52 MKG. We'd been hearing stories about people spending in excess of ΂£25,000 on their Cooper Ss, and so the decision was made to shun excess: a standard but striking monochrome paint scheme - actually it should have been all black, but mysteriously arrived with a white roof and mirrors - and that's about it. Well, apart from the 17in wheels, which we felt we should try in the interests of investigative journalism, as we'd only driven Cooper Ss on standard 16s until that point. Besides which, they gave the S bags of attitude. Jethro was MKG's first custodian. Unsurprisingly the young lad was chuffed, as in the autumn of '02 a Mini Cooper S was a real car of the moment. And in its evil colour scheme it even managed to shed something of the Mini's cuddly image: vital when you're a 25-year-old Juan Pablo Montoya lookalike.

While we all agreed the big wheels added to the looks, we never quite managed to reconcile their effect on the dynamics. From his first few weeks with the car, Jethro complained that the ride and steering feel were adversely affected, and despite trying Pirelli PZeros in place of the stiff-sidewalled Dunlop run-flats, the deftness we'd raved about when driving Ss on 16s couldn't be matched.

That said, the MINI was always prepared to entertain, supercharger singing its whiny song, nose sniffing out corners like a pig finding truffles. There was a thorn in its side though, a bright blue 170bhp thorn in the form of Andy Morgan's Clio Cup. Lighter and a few horses stronger, the Clio would often show the Mini a clean pair of rear tyres - even after we treated MKG to a Hartge engine upgrade at just under 6000 miles.

It was a decision made largely because of the delays in John Cooper releasing the S Works kit, but as the Hartge ECU and supercharger pulley conversion was around 50 per cent cheaper (at ΂£1781) there was also a major financial incentive. Fitted by Uxbridge-based Birds UK, the results of the upgrade were marked. With much-improved shove from a little over 2500rpm, the engine really sang above 5500rpm, racing towards the rev limiter with shocking urgency.

Mysteriously, though not approved by BMW the Hartge tweaks didn't set off any alarm bells at our local dealership when it came to service time. Handy, as it should have invalidated the warranty and the bargain three-year servicing package.

Though the chassis seemed happy to cope with 210bhp, the brakes were close to their limit after sustained use. The pedal - never the most confidence inspiring in times of stress - could get decidedly squidgy towards the end of a committed B-road thrash. The merest suggestion of a trackday would turn the stoppers to jelly in an instant.

Other gripes? Well, the gearbox was always on the notchy side, but did improve a little with mileage. The interior stood up well visually, but numerous rattles and squeaks developed after six months or so, which detracted from the otherwise impressive air of quality. Then there were the headlights. Hardly dazzling on main beam, they developed an intermittent fault which sometimes left one side dipped when it should have been full. On a dark B-road you could be forgiven for thinking they'd gone out altogether. Just like an old Mini, in fact.

Despite these gripes, the Cooper S has been a stirling Fast Fleeter. With so many exotic cars fighting for our attentions the Mini was often overshadowed, but it's a mark of the machine that whenever we drove it, the little black car never failed to remind us how special it was. That it also covered more than 25,000 merciless miles and never missed a beat proves there's real substance behind the obvious style. Our new S Works has a tough act to follow.