James May, one of the presenters, has just bought an eighties 911.
So that's 2 out of 3 (Hammond has one as well). Maybe they can change Clarkson's mind?
James May is also a motoring columnist for the Daily Telegraph and here's his story about buying it:
Conventional wisdom says you should never by the first car that you see, writes James May. And yet...
In my life so far I have owned three homes, and in each case I bought the first one I looked at. This might seem a pretty blasé approach to the most onerous financial and administrative commitment a chap can ever undertake, but to me it makes complete sense. All homes these days have internal lavatories and electric light, so why waste time and effort looking at several when they are going to be essentially the same?
Providing everything works, the roof isn't falling off and it doesn't back on to a railway marshalling yard, you may as well move straight in and save yourself the misery of tramping around the neighbourhood with a witless estate agent.
People tell me that buying a house is life's most stressful event, but I have to say I've always found it incredibly easy. It's not really that different from buying a pair of trousers. If they fit, you have them, thereby freeing up your mind for something far more important, such as buying a sports car. This, obviously, is much harder.
I've been thinking for a while now that it's about time I had something a bit more fruity than the Bentley and the old Range Rover. These two remain utterly peerless - the Bentley peerlessly pompous and the Range Rover peerlessly practical - and I'm keeping them. But I'm now 42, and if I didn't want a sports car I wouldn't be a proper middle-aged bloke.
And I mean a proper, powerful and slightly hairy sports car, not a "sporty" saloon or hatchback, that is something else altogether, namely a normal saloon or hatchback with horrid trim and a terrible ride.
But anything new that I fancied - Porsche Boxster, BMW Z4, Honda S2000 - was too expensive, so I found myself driven once again into the fateful embrace of Classic Cars magazine with a budget of £16,000. And after a while, I discovered a problem.
It is this. If you decide you want, or need, to live in Lower Chodford, you look for a house in Lower Chodford. They're all going to be pretty close together. But if you decide, as I did, that a 1970s BMW 3·0 CSL would be an interesting car, you might have to travel hundreds of miles to look at one.
Travelling five miles to look at a house with an avocado bathroom suite is merely annoying, but driving 200 miles to look at a BMW that turns out to be an absolute snotter is infuriating. After a few such trips, I decided that I just couldn't be bothered to find a good CSL.
It's the same with old Alfa Giuliettas and Triumph Stags. What misty-eyed classic car enthusiasts describe as "totally original" is what estate agents describe as "benefiting from many period features", ie knackered.
I realised I would have to apply my house-buying technique to sports cars, and that meant buying an old Porsche 911. The 911 has always been well made, there are plenty of them around and there are independent dealerships specialising in them.
In fact, there was one not 15 miles from me, called 911 Virgin. You could look it up on the interweb at
www.911virgin.com, but for God's sake don't add an "s" to "virgin" or you will end up on a deviant site featuring nudity and skateboards but no cars.
I fancied a 1980s 3·2-litre Carrera without any body kit or big spoilers. 911 Virgin had one of those in a discreet silver colour with blue leather seats, in super condition and with a rock-solid service history. So I went to look at it. It was good, so I decided to have it.
Obviously, there was some unseemly talk of money. This dealership offers two prices on each car. One is a trade price, at which you buy the car "as seen" with no comeback. This was £14,995. The other is the retail price, which includes a full service, rectification of any faults and a three-month warranty covering everything including normal wear and tear to clutch, gearbox and what have you. Then the price was £16,995.
Although I'm not strictly a 911 virgin, since I've driven dozens, I've never gone all the way and lived with one, so in the end I lost my bottle and went for the second option. But after the usual, arms-folded, forecourt stand-off I'd negotiated some new inner rear wheel arches and knocked the price down by £1,250.
Essentially, then, I'd walked in to a 911 shop and bought the first 911 I saw. It was easy. A few weeks ago I had to buy the ingredients for a Thai stir-fry. It took a lot longer.
• James May co-presents BBC Top Gear, which returns, like house price inflation, in the spring.