C is for: 1976 Chrysler Cordoba vs 1980 Checker Marathon

Good morning! Today’s Shitbox Showdown is brought to you by the letter C, and we’ve got two American classics for you to check out. One you might associate with Ricardo Montalban, the other with Danny DeVito – unless you’re too young for both of those references, in which case you have a lot to learn.

Yesterday’s derelict German coupes sent quite a few of you running for the hills, but for the souls brave enough to stick around and actually vote, the twelve-cylinder BMW was the clear choice. It certainly presents better, and you will have an easier time getting your hands on the parts that it needs.

But for me, it has to be the Bitter SC. Everybody has a “this cheap used BMW drove me insane and into the poorhouse” story; hell, I have a minor version of that story myself, from six months of E46 ownership. But not many people get the chance to revive a barn-find rarity like that SC. And honestly, I think it’s better than those photos let on. Get it out of that storage unit, hose off the dust, and you might be pleasantly surprised.

Today’s cars take us right back into the depths of the malaise era, but they also both push the nostalgia button pretty hard. One of them looks good but is a complete mystery mechanically, and the other needs a little sprucing up – and is a complete disaster mechanically. Hey, what did you expect? Let’s check them out.

1976 Chrysler Cordoba – $7,250

Engine/drivetrain: Overhead valve V8 of unknown displacement, three-speed automatic, RWD

Location: Yuma, AZ

Odometer reading: 90,000 miles

Operational status: Runs and drives well

The personal luxury coupe craze may have been started by the Ford Thunderbird, but it arguably reached its peak with this car: the Chrysler Cordoba. Named after a city in Spain, this stylish coupe was sold for eight model years across two generations, and marketed as the perfect mode of transport for suave, debonair, golden-throated Mexican actors with hit TV dramas, or anyone who aspired to be such.

The first-generation Cordoba was available with one of three Chrysler V8s: the LA-block 318 and 360, and the B-block 400. The seller doesn’t say which this one has, and doesn’t provide any open-hood photos that might give clues, but based on its lack of exterior gingerbread, I’m guessing this is a fairly low-option car, and probably just has a 318. Nothing wrong with that; it’s a good engine, with lots of potential to wake it up if you so desire. The transmission is, of course, a three-speed Torqueflite automatic.

The low-option theme continues inside, with crank windows, and a vinyl bench seat in place of the Cordoba’s signature (but optional) Rich Corinthian Leather bucket seats. The good news is it’s in really good shape. The steering wheel rim is cracked, and I imagine the dash top is likewise cracked under that carpet toupee, but it’s totally presentable as is.

It’s really clean outside as well, and mercifully free of a landau vinyl top. The turbine-style wheels are an option, and they really suit it, but I’m not sold on the whitewalls. It looks like it might have a little more rake than it’s supposed to; I don’t know if the front torsion bars are sagging, or if the rear has been jacked up a bit, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be pointed downhill quite that much. It doesn’t look bad; it just doesn’t look standard.

1980 Checker Marathon – $6,000

Engine/drivetrain: 5.7 liter diesel overhead valve V8, three-speed automatic, RWD

Location: Glen Allen, VA

Odometer reading: 177,000 miles

Operational status: Turns over but won’t start

I was surprised when I started entering the tags for this car into our content management system. Usually, if a tag has been used before, a suggestion will pop up when you start typing it in. But when I started typing “Checker Marathon,” I got nothing. Could it be that this mighty paragon of practicality, a car that steadfastly refused to update its styling in the slightest for twenty-one years, one of the greatest unsung American atuomotive icons of all time, has never been mentioned here? I refuse to believe it. But if that is in fact the case, I’m proud to be the one rectifying that oversight.

Checker cars were, of course, originally designed as taxicabs, with civilian versions like this coming along later. Thus, they were built to be robust and easy to service above all else, with lots of off-the-shelf parts; the front suspension of this car is basically that of a ’50s Ford. General Motors provided the powertrains starting in the ’60s, usually Chevy inline sixes or small-block V8s, but in 1980 a new option was offered: the Oldsmobile 350 diesel V8. It is incorrectly identified in the ad as a “Buick 6.2 liter diesel,” but no such engine existed. No, this is that greatest malaise-era GM folly, an engine almost universally derided – and almost always replaced with something better. This one has somehow managed 177,000 miles, but at the moment it does not run. No great loss. Yank it out, and drop in any number of GM gasoline V8s with the Buick-Olds-Pontiac bellhousing bolt pattern; they’ll bolt right up to this car’s TH400 transmission.

The parts-bin nature of the Marathon is on full display inside, with what is obviously a GM steering column and a Chevy steering wheel (without the Chevy logo). These cars were built to be comfortable enough to spend all day in, so there’s plenty of room, and I imagine that bench seat is pretty cushy, but you won’t find much in the way of creature comforts. It does look like it has air conditioning, and some sort of stereo, but that’s about it. The front upholstery looks dirty but all right; we don’t get a photo of the back.

The Marathon’s basic shape dates back to 1956, and it remained completely unchanged except for a few tiny details from 1961 to 1982 when Checker stopped building it. This one looks a little bit special, with its vinyl top and Lincoln-style oval opera windows in place of the normal rear quarter windows. It has a vaguely funereal look, and I wonder if it might have actually been owned by a funeral home or something. Marathons were typically seen as taxis, but they appeared anywhere someone needed a good, sturdy fleet car. It has a little bit of rust along the bottom, but for its age, it’s holding up remarkably well.

Either one of these would be a lot easier to live with than yesterday’s choices, but they’re both a lot more unique than your average Charger or Chevelle. One looks pretty much ready to go, and the other is ready for whatever engine you choose to stick in it. Which one interests you more?