By CHRIS RATTUE
Trouble came between Dean Barker and Russell Coutts in the form of a smiling face at the final press conference before the America's Cup racing begins.
Trouble, as in media director Bruno Trouble, clasped the rivals together for the sake of the photographers as the rest of the conference dispersed.
Barker stood, arms folded, eyes fixed, sunglasses pushed back, like a man prepared to do the obligatory handshakes that followed, but only just.
Coutts, arms at side, was hardly yelling "ahoy skipper" either.
The America's Cup is no place for harmonious rivalry. The OneWorld syndicate, who headed for Auckland with "high ideals" and global goodwill on their minds but ended up in a yachting spy scandal, certainly found that out.
It's battle time, and there are already signs of battle stress, which is hardly surprising considering the testy relationship between the New Zealand-made Swiss team and their former team-mates.
If you'd filled the Auld Mug that sat between Coutts and Barker with champagne, it would have been well-chilled by the time Monsieur Trouble called time.
But compared with the great old fun-filled days of the America's Cup, when Dennis Conner was in full flight and Chris Dickson was drilling holes in everything with those eyes, this was about as exciting as watching the Louis Vuitton Cup.
Muzzles are a hot topic in the dog-infested streets of our land right now, and you could almost see a couple of them around the pursed lips of the two skippers.
Coutts liked his answers short and not too sweet. Like his punchlines - including a well-timed naughty innuendo in refusing to reveal the Valentine's Day present from his wife - they hardly tested the reporters' shorthand.
If Coutts is a bundle of laughs, he keeps it remarkably well-hidden. His smile looks like a cross between a grin and a grimace.
Barker was a bit more liberal with his words and had a couple of funnies, but he obviously never discovered where the Coutts humour zone lies during their sailing days together.
Barker got his comedic chance when Coutts revealed he had a massage the previous night and had slept well. Barker quipped that he hoped it was Coutts' wife who supplied the massage.
It raised a decent chuckle, but Coutts didn't even bother trying to crack a grin.
Maybe he didn't want Barker even winning a smile out of him this close to race time.
When this rare, disconnected small talk involving the pair did break out, their eyes - especially Coutts' - usually sailed straight ahead.
It was like one of those split-screen jobs favoured by old movie makers, except in this case there was no imaginary phone line. Not much connection at all really, apart from a cursory handshake at the end.
When questioners asked about their shared histories, the result was mainly stony ground rather than common ground.
Trouble, a former French America's Cup sailor, suavely runs these talk-fests, sliding in some opening questions himself and later bringing things to a close with a question countdown.
Nothing is left to chance. Trouble, the sailors and team-members are perched on a platform with a handy escape route at the rear.
The final press conference was a game of three-a-side and the main rule seemed to be to say as little as possible.
If you've noticed a remarkable lack of sailing information here, you're right. Even race official Harold Bennett gave what amounted to a "no comment" when called to account over a technicality.
And if you were looking for ill winds beyond a Frenchman's surname and a few frosty looks, you were stiff out of luck right to the not-very-bitter end when the potential for a diplomatic tiff was snuffed out.
When it came to the handshaking bit, Coutts and Alinghi owner Ernesto Bertarelli went looking for Team New Zealand boss Tom Schnackenberg and instead found very light airs.
Thin air, in fact.
Naughty Tom had wandered off to talk to a journalist, the Washington Post's Angus Phillips, who covered himself in glory during question time by claiming to be the first person to take a microphone off Paul Holmes.
Bertarelli bailed up Team NZ chief executive Ross Blackman, claiming Schnackenberg had displayed an alarming lack of decorum in not doing the handshake thing.
God knows what Bertarelli would have made of Conner in his tack-spitting prime.
Could this be the flashpoint, in the finest traditions of Conner and Dickson?
Not on your nelly. Schnackenberg happily obliged with his hand, cannons were quickly lowered, and the ammo kept dry for the water today.
nzherald.co.nz/americascup
Racing schedule and results
Smiling together, but miles apart
AdvertisementAdvertise with NZME.