The version for fans with intimacy issues can still cause a stir, though it’s no threat to the real thing.

Price: $55,895.
Powertrain and performance: 2.0-litre petrol four, 135kW/205Nm, 6-speed automatic, RWD, Combined economy 7.2 litres per 100km.
Vital statistics: 3915mm long, 1735mm wide, 1235mm high, 2310mm wheelbase, luggage capacity 127 litres, 17-inch alloys.
We like: Well-built, strong spec, beautiful steering.
We don't like: Less inviting version of hugely involving car.

WE have one to race and another for roadies.

I have plastic models and diecasts; books, branded clothing – including the Blipshift t-shirt collection - a cap or two.

So, yeah, the question is entirely rhetorical: Am I a Mazda MX-5 tragic? Well, yes. Yes, I am.

I once wrote that, when considering this car, it comes down to sorting levels of greatness rather than outright flaws. In hindsight, maybe that was a bit too simplistic.

Inevitably some variants resonate more strongly than others. if I’m going to call favourites, I’d be filling my garage with manual roadsters. I’ve got a nice NA, probably would skip the next-out NB (better drivetrain, tighter chassis, yes, but the styling’s just plain iffy); would love to add an NC in its RC spec and also the ND; as a manual 2.0-litre in the 100th Anniversary guise. I’d have one of those in a heartbeat.

So, anyway, it should be quite obvious that the MX-5s I like best come in most-dedicated manual roadster format. Call me a purist. I’ll wear that badge with pride.

Anyway, enough about me. Today’s story is about the MX-5 YOU want. Also the type I’ve resolutely steered away from. No small feat since I’ve driven a fair few MX-5s and the ND has been around since 2015.

Anyway, that run has come to an end … I’ve now been compelled to live with the MX-5 I always thought would least meet my tastes. Yet is also the one that certainly meets yours. You being the average MX-5 customer of the moment.

Worked out what it is yet? It must be obvious, but another clue … it’s the one that is least ‘hands on.’ Yes, that’s right. The automatic.

In this instance, it’s the most expensive regular MX-5 money can buy, an automatic RF Limited. So, six-speed two-pedal transmission, Retractable Fastback) bodystyle with all the trimmings. A great looking car … for the lazy, right?

Actually, an admission: The car has forced me into confronting an inconvenient truth. It’s better than I thought. Not enough to ultimately sway my convictions; but enough to remind that Mazda understands it has a legend on its hands and has no intention of being reckless with its reputation.

In this respect, I’m not just talking about how the gearbox operates. I can understand why Mazda created the RF; the previous generation NC range introduced a folding roof and did quite well. It would have been silly for Mazda not to have created a follow-up.

As exquisite as the apparatus is in its engineering, in design terms the RF is – to my eyes - a bit awkward; although the folding metal lid adds but 50kg to the scales, the visual 'weight' is too much of a load. Still, that’s never been my most pressing problem.

Unfortunately for lanky old me, the current shape car in metal-topped form is, even after running changes that have delivered a bit more seat travel, the snuggest fitting version of a snug car.

It’s not impossible, but I figure I’m about two centimetres too tall to fit properly; just enough to make getting in (and out) is a bit awkward. Optimally, I’ll retract the roof first, get in and drop down and, if need be, put the roof back up again, though if that can be avoided, all the better. It’s more in keeping with the whole ‘feel the breeze’ ethos, plus visibility is better.

Anyway, I’d begrudgingly agree the auto having one less pedal in the tight footwell made it easier for me to get my size 12s down there without snagging.

A small victory to the slushbox, then. Though the bigger challenge, by far, is convincing me it lends even a remotely equitable driving vibe. Gut feeling, of course, is that it won’t stand a chance. The big selling point of this car has always been that it makes a driver connect especially closely. How much intimacy can a transmission that asks nothing more of a person than to put it into D really deliver? Very little, I’d have thought.

And, yet, a week on, I’ll concede that, in respect to this matter, the conversation is less clear-cut than I had conceived.

Don’t get your hopes up too high, auto tragics. Having now taken an updated engine that, while meatier in the mid-range, is also fizzier at the top end only makes life easier for the manual. The auto simply doesn’t tap into those seams of goodness as well; it’s a utensil that scoops from the middle of the bowl. If you want every last taste, you need the manual. In that sense, the overall ethos of the MX-5 is compromised.

Yet, as much as the auto is nowhere near as easy to drive to the redline and disallows unfettered involvement, it’s not hopeless, nor does it remove the fun out of this car. If you wondered if Mazda putting this transmission into the car is just a cynical effort to raise sales well … shame on you. It isn’t the case. Notwithstanding that it holds status as the world’s best-selling roadster, volume success has never been as important as getting it right. If the auto was so awful, it simply wouldn’t have got one.

But yes, you definitely do need to play your part. Driving in ‘Drive’ is not enough. You have to interact. Put it into the Sport mode and use the shifters in manual format as soon the driving conditions appear promising. It makes the world of difference. The engine is quite responsive and the box not only does well to keep up with the revs, but seems engineered to hold whatever particular gear you want it to be in for as long as you want to keep it there. It’s en route to being a bit like a dual-clutch transmission would’ve been, albeit with softer shift changes, had Mazda ever taken that route. (For all sorts of reasons, of course, they did not and probably never will). But it does feel snappier than I thought it might and makes the engine work hard enough to elicit some exhaust snarl.

Would I personally go with it? No. Never. But perhaps, now, I’ll be less judgemental of those who do. As much as there’s more of a purity to the MX-5 than occurs with many other cars, everyone has different tastes and expectations. If you run in traffic every day or do a lot of stop-and-go driving through a city, then an auto is easier.

The experience also reinforces that that the RF is a more suitable candidate for this box because it is, in so many other ways, of different character to the roadster. Not only a more upscale looking car but also one that has already allowed concession to salient MX-5 rules. With the ND roadster, as with the original NA, lightness and simplicity counts for everything.

With the RF, not quite so much. The intricate metal roof that gives the MX-5 a targa-like design when down and a hardtop when it’s up adds kilos. So does the auto. Something’s gotta give.

Another factor: Going with this transmission means you don’t get a limited-slip differential, and that’s telling, too.

It still has the same spunkiness, liveliness, and sharp handling that we’ve all come to love. There’s plenty of grip, too, so you don’t feel afraid to use all its performance on the road. There’s an immediacy and sharpness to the steering. Yet, as playful as it is, I’d bet that if run back-to-back with the roadster, then it’d always be working harder to appeal.

Still, we’re only talking about how things are within the inner sanctum. Any MX-5 is a driver’s car; set up to handle incredibly well, sitting almost flat on the tightest of bends. Assess the RF Auto against a broader set of competitors and it’ll still feel pretty damn nifty.

There’s something quite GP-cool about changing gears with paddle shifts without having to lift a palm from the wheel rim. It’s not quite like being in a single-seater race car, of course, but not far off it, in that this is a confined cockpit. So tight, remember, the car’s manual is stored in the boot, because there’s no glovebox - the ND is the first MX-5 without one of those in order to provide more knee room for its passenger. So tight, for me, that for comfort’s sake, before any outing I got into the habit of transferring pocket contents into the dinky storage cubby behind and between the seats.

In respect to that, as much as the MX-5 is not wholly impossible to drive for long distances; it’s just not the very best car for it. Aside from having a bodysuit feel, it’s firm, it’s buzzy can seem worryingly teensy in heavy traffic streams.

Also, on the RF, the buttresses cause a blind spot and trigger an annoying wind buffet exactly behind your right ear at exactly 100kmh. There’s more wind noise than you’d get in the convertible.

Close the roof and that goes away. In fact, every extraneous noise reduces considerably. It’s no limo, but has to be the best insulated of any MX-5. Yet the problem, for me, is that doing this makes it harder to see out of. Not too bad for forwards vision, but definitely restricted for the side and rear (though perhaps, in respect to the last, that’s the same for everyone). Still, it’s all about looking forward, right? And in that respect the view is sweet. BTW, the front wings have been designed to replicate the look of the original pop-up headlight design, at least from the driver’s seat, so that you can see the front of the car.

As much as the RF-specific styling elements don’t all appeal to me, the generic shape is still superb. For sure, it really stands out as presented here, with the most premium colour in the palette, Soul Red Crystal Metallic, yet the look is still testimony to the canniness of the design department. After all, we should have had this model MX-5 in 2012, because Mazda was working on it from 2007, but the whole project was put on hold for three years because of the global financial crisis. It was assumed people would be too poor and depressed to buy sports cars.

The test car was in in most expensive form, so leather and seat heating, 17 inch alloys, auto headlights, heated exterior mirrors, auto wipers, an auto dimming rear-view mirror, climate AC, a Premium Bose 203-watt sound system with 9 speakers, SatNav, proximity keyless entry and rear parking sensors.

It achieves the most safety tech too, including lane departure warning, smart city brake support (Reverse), traffic sign recognition and driver attention alert. There’s just one concession to modernity it holds out against. The MX-5 is the only Skyactiv car not to feature stop-start technology.

The photographs here are from the test car’s last remaining challenge. My past-time is to race an NA; there’s a great category that, having kicked off some years ago on the track nearest my home, Manfeild: Circuit Chris Amon, is now stretching into becoming a fully national opportunity. You can read all about that, and also a great way of getting involved, on the Gilligans Garage website (https://gilligansgarage.com/).

Honestly, racing the original MX-5 is such a great buzz; it’s incredible that a car born in 1989 can achieve, three decades on, the same unbeatable budget benchmark status in club-level racing that it achieved in its first life, as a road car.

Bringing the ND out to meet the racers seemed the right thing to do; but what reception would it get?

Well … they’re a tough crowd. Excitement about seeing the new car was palpable. But, yeah, all the banter about how great it’d be to take it out for a few laps (honest Mazda, I know the rules, it didn’t go there) sort of lessened off when they one-by-one peeked into the cockpit and spotted the shifter.

But maybe that’s just an educative thing. Like me, none had driven an automatic MX-5. Most, in fact, hadn’t even had seat time in the ND.

From my view, direct acquaintance hasn’t changed my thoughts: For me, MX-5 means manual. This model didn’t alter that attitude.

But I do, perhaps, have a less narrow-minded view than was once the case.