British sports cars were everywhere in the 1960s. Dad had a Triumph TR3 and his colleague had a Big Healey, while my Little League coach had an Iris Blue MGB. A Pale Primrose MGB — often visited by a TR250 the same color — lived around the corner, while the next block was home to my Spanish tutor’s white B with a factory hardtop. Going to school, I’d pass another white B with fog lamps as well as a Citron Yellow one. And those were just the roadsters; my sixth-grade teacher had an MGB/GT, as did one of Dad’s flying buddies. Later, a neighbor had a Harvest Gold GT. It was inevitable that the B would sting me and lead to a string of roadsters and GTs.
This is a companion discussion topic for the original entry at https://www.hagerty.com/articles-videos/articles/2013/03/14/the-b-all-and-end-all