Mismatch looked silly

Press, 13 September 1988, Page 11

Mismatch looked silly

Nobody who watched Thursday morning’s live broadcast of the first America’s Cup race could disagree with the thesis that the event was a mismatch. It looked just silly, with the magnificent New Zealand boat plunging along miles behind Dennis Conner’s mosquitolike craft. The question, of course, is not whether or not the regatta was a mismatch, but whether it was a mismatch allowed for by the rules of the Deed of Gift. That still falls to be decided by Judge Carmen Ciparick of the New York Supreme Court. And what a magnificent opportunity awaits her, given the fortuitous fact that she is a woman! Dennis Conner’s ugly outburst after the second race, with all that pathetic stuff about “This is a forum for winners. You’re a loser. Get off the

stage,” etc, shows competitive male aggression at its least attractive.

If America’s Cup racing leads you to speak and think like that, and to race in a catamaran in the first place, then you are clearly in need of counselling for your personality problems. Which is why Judge Ciparick should import some non-competitive feminine sensitivity and concern for others into the conduct of future Cup challenges, with competitors being counselled before they take to the water and reassured that their empowerment as yachtpersons will not in any way be diminished by negative outcomes, like losing the race. There should be affirmative action to ensure that women find places in crews, and far less emphasis on technology, with

sails being set on the basis of intuition rather than because of what some television camera tells a computer. And Dennis Conner should be ordered by the court to read all of Arthur Ransome’s “Swallows and Amazons” books, to teach him that sails and water don’t necessarily equate with the limited emotional satisfaction of winning a major race in a silly boat. Poor old Bill McCarthy, Ron Holland, Alan Sefton et al. strove manfully to overcome the difficulty of doing a five-hour commentary on an event which was over after the first few minutes. Indeed they may have put together the world’s longest and most arduous noncommentary. They were, of course, aided by wonderful pictures of the superb New Zealand craft doing its

thing, however pointlessly. But most of the time they had to fall back on saying the same things over and over. They actually worked this quite cleverly, there being about nine basic things that they were saying. First Bill would say three of them, then Ron would say three more, then Alan would contribute a final three. Then Bill would say Ron’s three, Ron would say Alan’s three, and Alan would repeat Bill’s three. And so on and so forth.

They weren’t anything like as good as the 8.8. C. cricket commentators of the old days, who could comment on a wet day at Lord’s when no play actually took place, far more entertainingly than they would have if play had been proceeding in front of them. But there are fewer things to say about yachting than about

cricket, or so we must assume.

In many ways the best thing about the commentary was that they kept losing Pete Montgomery on the water. This viewer is willing to watch and enjoy any yachting event where they keep losing Pete Montgomery on the water.