The ultimate sporting challenge is also the ultimate entrepreneurial one, as Richard Lofthouse discovers at the 32nd America’s Cup in Valencia "So, are you afraid of failure?” I ask Sir Keith. “Afraid of failure? Yes,” he says in his softly-spoken voice, “all the time. Entrepreneurs keep testing themselves because they’re insecure – most of them have to keep proving that they can still do it. I’ve wished on many occasions that this wasn’t the case – it’s a bit of a curse.” Aged 56 and the veteran of around a dozen business ventures – most famously the Air Miles concept, and then customer loyalty cards such as Nectar – Sir Keith Mills is cursed with the inner drive to win, and he knows it. Last year he led the British Olympic bid to victory against a chorus of naysayers. Having won the fiercest competition in the history of hosting the Olympics, you’d think he’d have hung up his clogs and retired. The proverbial leopard never changes its spots, however, and Mills is blessed with the curse that defines the breed. “I promised my wife faithfully that there’d be no more big campaigns after Olympics; she nearly throttled me when I told her about this,” he notes, adding that next week he’ll be taking some time off to “put some money into the piggy bank of my marriage”.  “This” refers to Mills’ recently launched attempt to win the America’s Cup – not the 32nd America’s Cup, which is fought next month off the coast of Valencia, but those likely to be held in 2009 and 2011, probably at a European venue. The defenders of this summer’s duel are Swiss team Alinghi, and if they retain the silvery trophy that gives the America’s Cup its name, the event will stay in Europe and become a biannual occasion.
Today, we’re bobbing about on a beautiful old motor yacht while a dozen competing vessels assemble for a decisive fleet race that will set the stage for the Louis Vuitton Cup, which in turn will produce the single challenger to go head to head with the defender, Alinghi, come July. In this regard, the America’s Cup is merely a cipher for lots of other races that have to be won first – an incredibly difficult proposition for a seasoned campaigner, let alone a newcomer. Mills is no stranger to sailing, but he hasn’t competed in the America’s Cup before. His team, TeamOrigin, has only existed since January, mostly as a website, a logo and a pile of business cards. No wonder Marcus Hutchinson, head of corporate communications at America’s Cup Management (ACM), the trust that runs the event, refers respectfully to Mills as “Brave Sir Keith”. What Mills is proposing is akin to going straight from carting to Formula One in a single leap. This is why he’s observing this year’s race so closely, with scouts present to conduct what he calls “intelligence”.  An America’s Cup yacht as its spinnaker fills with wind “Ah, there’s the first one,” says Mills, referring to a shiny black carbon fibre hull that appears at the mouth of Valencia’s America’s Cup Port. The vessel is under tow until the first sail is hoisted, upon which it completely changes its nature, becoming a wild animal. “You know today is decisive,” Mills continues. “These teams have been preparing for three or four years, and today is the day they’ve got to start winning. It’s showtime – there’s a lot of tension out there.” A similar air of trepidation hangs over TeamOrigin, because everyone wants to know if Mills is serious or whether this is going to be yet another mediocre attempt by the British to win the event they started in 1851 but never once succeeded in winning. The obvious question to put to the keen amateur yachtsman is whether he’s here for the sailing or, more improbably, to make money. |