The blue Si. You know exactly which Civic I’m talking about. Two doors. Seven-spoke wheels. VTEC badges. Subtle body mods. To this high schooler, the EM-generation Civic Si was more desirable than any hot hatch or American muscle car of the period.
Before I could even drive, an EM Si (hatchback cousin to the EK Coupe pictured here) burned into my brain. Around 2002 while riding the bus home from school in my small New Jersey town, I spotted it. Parked on a corner with a ‘For Sale’ sign in the window. Back then, the internet wasn’t the best way to sell cars yet. It was hardly a place of commerce at all.
Photo by: Honda
The car, however, was perfect. My head swiveled 180 degrees to get a complete look. Totally stock in that perfect blue. I wanted it. I wanted it badly for life.
I wasn’t alone in the experience. Fast Hondas were a preoccupation for any of the car-curious kids in the neighborhood. It was the same at the go-kart track. Anyone who I raced with was all over the idea of a small coupe that revved to 8 grand. And the kicker was that when new, these were not expensive cars. A little more than $17,000 in 2000 (about $31,000 today). It even seemed attainable to a kid on a school bus.
The late Nineties and early Aughts were a peak period of Japanese performance. And thanks to Gran Turismo, teenagers knew about the Evo VI, the WRX STI, the Civic Type R, the R33 GT-R.
Photo by: Honda
Sometimes The Blue Si was even red.
These were attainable exotics in nearly every corner of the world, except America. Draconian import laws and a market that preferred rear-drive V-8s kept these all-wheel drive sedans, high-revving coupes, and technological powerhouses from being imported. And the few that did make it–the NSX, the Supra, the 3000GT–were too expensive for the masses.
That blue Si, though, that was the bridge. That was the GT generation’s gateway to the JDM world they saw on their screens, controller in hand. It was a relatively inexpensive way to bring the game to life. And while I have no proof, I believe the success of the Si made Japanese automakers realize the market here wouldn’t only accept high-tech supercars, that they didn’t need to compete with Porsche and Ferrari to be taken seriously, but that they needed to prove their worth on the lower end of the spectrum, to give the younger generation a performance car that wasn’t a Mustang or Camaro.
Photo by: Honda
Stock or (questionably) modified, this was our dream car.
The years following The Blue Si saw a massive change in ethos for the Japanese manufacturers and in turn, the perception of buyers. The Evo finally made it to the US, as did the WRX and WRX STI. More people realized how ahead of their time the Diamond Star cars like the Mitsubishi Eclipse and Eagle Talon were. Nissan even imported the R35-generation GT-R. The JDM performance drought ended.
By the time I could drive, the high school parking lot had transformed from Jeeps, Firebirds, and Jettas to a contingent of WRXs, Evos, Zs, and, yes, the Si. Some stock, some massively modified.
I’ve been thinking about that Si a lot recently. I never ended up buying one when I was younger, the price was still out of line with what I could afford. I went for a Miata instead, a move I’ll never regret.
Photo by: Honda
Honda B-Series: Stuff of dreams.
Now it’s nearly impossible to find a clean EM Si, and when you do, it’s outrageously expensive. But I didn’t totally give up on fast Hondas; my daily is a 2023 Civic Type R. And yes, it’s blue.
The modern Si still fills the same place in the market, with a $29,950 price tag that’s actually lower than that 2000 Si when adjusted for inflation. But it doesn’t inspire the same lust. It’s bigger, it’s turbocharged, and it’s less raw than that model from 25 years ago. But I’m also viewing it through a different lens, not gawking from a school bus, dreaming about shifting and revving. The Si might still be the stuff of teenage dreams, and it’s a great dream to have.
