Bob Lutz isn’t just a “Car Guy.” He’s the Car Guy—the kind of executive whose decisions left tire marks on the asphalt of automotive history. During his short but potent tenure as BMW’s board member for sales, Lutz delivered on his reputation, steering the company toward enthusiast-driven icons like the 2002 Turbo and the 3.0 CSL. He also planted the seeds of BMW Motorsport, the division that would grow into a motorsports powerhouse.

But Lutz wasn’t just about horsepower and handling. Born in Switzerland and raised in America, his résumé reads like a cross between a spy novel and a corporate playbook. While earning an MBA at Berkeley, he flew jets with the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve. After leaving military service in 1964, he joined Opel in Germany, climbing the ranks until BMW lured him to Munich in 1972. At just 39 years old, Lutz became the board member for sales and marketing, reporting to the equally young and visionary CEO, Eberhard von Kuenheim.

It didn’t take Lutz long to roll up his sleeves and dig into BMW’s sales strategy—or lack thereof. He quickly uncovered an alarming imbalance: independent distributors across Europe were reaping enormous profits, dwarfing BMW’s own margins despite selling far fewer cars. In France, Italy, and beyond, these middlemen operated like mini-fiefdoms, their contracts relics of a bygone era when BMW was struggling to find its footing.

Lutz, never one to shy away from a challenge, worked with von Kuenheim to upend this system. Within two years, BMW had established its own wholly-owned subsidiaries in France, Belgium, and Italy, reclaiming control over its destiny. But if Europe was challenging, the United States was a full-blown crisis.

The culprit? Max Hoffman, the Viennese-born importer who’d been instrumental in introducing BMW to America in the 1950s but had since become more liability than asset. Hoffman had exclusive U.S. distribution rights, thanks to contracts renewed under dubious circumstances by Paul Hahnemann, BMW’s former sales director. Hahnemann, it turned out, was not just corrupt—he’d also left BMW entangled in a web of bad deals. By the time Lutz arrived, Hoffman’s outdated practices were stifling BMW’s potential in the booming U.S. market.

Lutz smelled trouble immediately. Hoffman, facing pressure from Munich, tried to sweeten the pot, offering Lutz a suspiciously lucrative arrangement to keep things as they were. Lutz, in his no-nonsense style, shut it down. “Believe me, Maxie, I’m very satisfied with my financial arrangements,” he quipped, later recounting Hoffman’s increasingly desperate tactics, which bordered on mafioso melodrama. At one point, Hoffman even hinted at “unfortunate accidents” should Lutz persist in challenging his empire.

Meanwhile, BMW’s U.S. operations were floundering under Hoffman’s mismanagement. The company projected sales of 40,000-50,000 cars annually, but Hoffman delivered less than half that. He refused to import certain models, like the 1602 and the Touring, dismissing them outright. Spare parts? Hoffman considered them a nuisance. Customers faced long waits for the cars they wanted, and BMW’s hard-earned reputation for engineering excellence was taking a hit.

By 1974, the situation had become untenable. Hoffman’s erratic ordering left BMW’s factories in Munich scrambling, forcing layoffs and sparking discontent among workers. The company’s majority shareholder, Herbert Quandt, urged von Kuenheim to put an end to the chaos. On July 9, BMW terminated its agreement with Hoffman, citing “serious commercial reasons.” But Hoffman, true to form, didn’t go quietly, dragging the fight out for nearly a year before BMW of North America officially took over U.S. operations.

Lutz’s time at BMW was brief but transformative. He didn’t just sell cars; he reshaped the company’s global strategy, laying the groundwork for its eventual rise to dominance. And while his clashes with Hoffman read like a Hollywood script, they underscored a deeper truth about Lutz: he was a man who didn’t just talk about excellence—he demanded it, from everyone around him, and especially from himself.