The Broadside
The America’s Cup is no longer the pinnacle of our sport. It is hardly even a sailing contest.
It is, in essence, just another commercial entity to be bought and sold, licenced and exploited in any way that makes a buck. Despite its lofty claims of inclusiveness and “pathways”, real skin in the game is reserved for the mega-rich, or for syndicates that can attract truckloads of sponsorship dollars. Its connection to mainstream sailing was lost more than a decade ago. The boats fly; the crew push buttons; each race takes no more than 20 minutes. Is it any wonder that the wider world has lost interest?
The hypocrisy of those who now control the Cup is nauseating. Their media releases invariably lay claim to being part of the glorious 175-year history of the event. In truth, they are a corruption of its fundamental principles and traditions. The Cup is owned and conducted – more accurately, has been appropriated – by a corporation, the APC (America’s Cup Partnership). The defending and challenging clubs are ciphers at best. The venue has no connection to the participants. It is sold to whichever city is dumb enough to fork out millions for the privilege and build one-off infrastructure. Even the naming right to the Cup itself has been sold – to a maker of luxury handbags.
The hard-heads tell us that this is just the way of the modern world. All major sport is now a business, they say. Why should the Cup be any different? Because – up to now – it has been unique. No other sailing event has its prestige and history. Like the tennis at Wimbledon and golf at Augusta, the Cup was able to achieve and sustain pre-eminence by protecting its traditions and resisting overt commercialism. Not anymore. At least SailGP makes no bones about being a crass, money-making operation.
Corruption is a strong word to use, but it increasingly seems to apply. Not corruption in the sense of seeking illegal financial gain, but corruption as moral deterioration or a perversion of integrity. To my mind, Grant Dalton and his associates have sold the Cup’s soul for a mess of pottage. But such deals always come at a cost. The signs that the event has been pushed beyond its natural limits are already there. How else to assess the requirement that all participants in AC38 must use modified boats from the previous series (or replicas built to AC37 designs)? How else to view the new rule that forbids crew (other than the helmsman) from handling anything other than a control panel?
There will, of course, be a Cup series next year. Too many people and dollars are already committed; too many egos are at stake. But a genuine sporting contest? Methinks not.
The Bosun
