My dad is a diehard New England sports fan, and as a kid, I often worried I’d have to perform CPR on him whenever the Bruins, Patriots, or Red Sox were on television. As livid as a Viking berserker, the old man would leap off the sofa to coach Tom Brady from the living room or rain down curses upon the Yankees. Our cocker spaniel, Fenway, instinctively fled the room whenever my father reached for the remote. The stress of it all, plus the fact that I was missing episodes of South Park, soured me on professional sports.
I finally came around in my thirties, less for the sports themselves than for the spectacle and revelry. I can’t name more than two Knicks players, but I had a blast watching the NBA Finals with my buddies at bars across New York. The nuances of Formula 1 are about as intelligible to me as multivariable calculus, but that didn’t stop me from partying my face off on a press trip to the Miami Grand Prix. I also write about luxury watches, spirits, and travel—all of which dovetail rather nicely with grand athletic extravaganzas.
The Formula 1 of the sea
Which brings me to the pinnacle of blue-blooded sports: SailGP, the Formula 1 of the water. Races unfold in the world’s most glamorous harbors, from Sydney and Saint-Tropez to New York and Dubai. The league’s F50 catamarans are technological marvels—carbon-fiber beasts capable of foiling above the water at speeds exceeding 60 miles per hour. The sailors themselves are near-superhuman athletes, blending the stamina of Olympic wrestlers with the tactical prowess of chess masters. Victory often hinges on split-second decisions made while enduring crushing G-forces, blinding spray, and merciless sun.
I also learned long ago from my favorite rappers that expensive boats attract the fairer sex like barracudas to fresh chum. Needless to say, I resolved to hop on the SailGP bandwagon. The first order of business was choosing a team to support. I landed on the Emirates Great Britain SailGP Team, largely because it partners with one of my favorite Champagne houses, Champagne Telmont. For both partners, stewardship of Mother Nature’s splendor is as high a priority as clinching wins. As Ludovic du Plessis, the founder of Telmont, puts it, “there is no victory on a losing planet.”
Founded in 1912, Telmont has long been a favorite of European glitterati. In recent decades, the house has built a sterling reputation for crafting exceptional Champagne while adhering to the most exacting sustainability standards. They really do walk the walk: regenerative viticulture in their vineyards, lightweight bottles that require less glass, and partnerships with environmental NGOs. Leo owns a stake in the company, but Telmont is far too dignified to lean on celebrity cachet.
The next SailGP race takes place on July 25–26 in Portsmouth, England, and I’ve invited some friends over for a watch party. The classier among them have asked if they can bring anything. I’m not so magnanimous as to insist that their good company is enough. Why, yes, you can bring something: Champagne—ideally Telmont.
