Introduction
I’ll be honest—if someone told me back in the late ’80s that a Ford Taurus would one day hang with, or even outrun, a Mustang, I’d have rolled my eyes so hard they’d make a sound. But then I got behind the wheel of a Taurus SHO. And man, it changed everything I thought I knew about family sedans.
This wasn’t just some grocery-getter with a badge. The SHO—short for “Super High Output”—was a legit performance machine hiding in plain sight. It had a high-revving Yamaha V6, a five-speed manual, and enough low-key swagger to humble a few muscle cars if you played your cards right.
The Yamaha V6: A Motorcycle Heart in a Family Sedan
Now let’s talk about that engine—the SHO’s secret weapon.
Ford partnered with Yamaha (yep, the motorcycle company) to build a 3.0-liter DOHC V6 that was just bonkers for the time. We’re talking 220 horsepower and 200 lb-ft of torque, all naturally aspirated. That was serious juice in 1989, especially in a mid-size four-door.
The Mustang GT that year? It had 225 hp on paper in ’88, but in ’89 it dropped to 205 hp. That’s right—Ford’s halo pony car had less power than the Taurus. Wrap your head around that.
What really set the SHO’s V6 apart wasn’t just its numbers—it was how it delivered power. It loved to rev. You didn’t get that lazy torque down low like in a V8. Instead, this thing built power as the RPMs climbed, all the way to a screaming 7,000 rpm redline. It felt more like something you’d find under the hood of a sport bike or a tuner car.
And the noise? A mechanical snarl that got sharper with every shift. Not loud or obnoxious—just purposeful.
The SHO vs the Mustang: Know Your Advantage
Okay, so how did it stack up against the Mustang in real life?
From a dead stop, the Mustang GT usually had the edge. More torque (275 lb-ft) and less weight made a difference off the line. But in a roll race? That’s where things got fun.
I learned this during a very unofficial, very dumb backroad showdown with a buddy who had a Fox-body GT. I feathered the clutch, dropped into second at about 40 mph, and nailed it. The SHO came alive in the midrange, and by the time I hit third, I was pulling ahead. His face in the rearview? Priceless.
The key was to keep it in the power band. Lug it around like a Camry and it felt sluggish. Wind it up, and it came alive.
Pro tip: if you ever get your hands on one, don’t short-shift it. Let it breathe. Let that Yamaha motor sing.
What Made the SHO So Special?
It wasn’t just about performance—it was about the whole package. You had:
- A slick-shifting 5-speed manual
- Four-wheel disc brakes
- A sport-tuned suspension
- Room for five and a decent-sized trunk
And it all came for under $20,000 brand new. That was a steal. Especially when Car and Driver was calling it one of the fastest four-doors in the U.S., second only to the BMW M5 and 750iL—cars that cost more than double.
The SHO wasn’t a muscle car. It wasn’t trying to be. It was something rarer: a sport sedan with real performance chops that you could daily without feeling like a clown.
I still remember the feeling of pulling onto the highway and rowing through the gears. It didn’t just move—it surged. You didn’t expect that from a Taurus. That surprise factor? That’s what made it fun.
Power Today vs Then: Why 220 hp Meant Something
These days, 220 horsepower won’t turn any heads. A base Camry does better. But you’ve gotta view it in context.
Back in ’89, a Corvette had 245 hp. A Camaro IROC-Z? Same ballpark. And those were rear-wheel-drive sports cars. The SHO, with front-wheel-drive and a manual transmission, was competing with them from a family sedan platform.
Now, take today’s performance numbers. A 2025 Corvette ZR1 is pushing 1,064 horsepower from the factory. If the SHO had followed that curve, it’d be making nearly 955 horsepower today. That’s Tesla Model S Plaid territory—and the Plaid is the definition of a modern sleeper.
Point is, performance has changed, but the SHO was punching above its weight way before it was cool.
Final Thoughts: The SHO Was a Quiet Rebel
The Taurus SHO was never flashy. It didn’t have stripes or spoilers or loud exhausts. But under the hood? A Yamaha-built masterpiece. And behind the wheel? A surprisingly engaging driving experience—if you knew how to unlock it.
It was one of those cars that made you smile not because of what it looked like, but because of what it could do when pushed.
These days, true sleepers are getting harder to find. But the SHO was one of the OGs—right up there with the Buick GNX, the Volvo 850R, and even the early Subaru Legacy Turbo.
Got a favorite sleeper car that made people say “wait, that’s fast?” Drop it in the comments. I’m always on the hunt for the next underdog.
