WHO WOULD BE A COACH? That is the question that might have formed on the lips of anyone watching former Australian rugby coach Eddie Jones’ terse press conference following the Wallabies’ 40-6 thrashing by Wales at the Rugby World Cup in France earlier this year. Jones was in the hot seat, a position in which all coaches at the highest level find themselves at some point. It’s part of the job, if you can call what is a multidimensional, intensely scrutinised and, for some, all-consuming obsession, a job.
“I don’t consider coaching to be a career in any way, shape or form,” says Michael Cheika, coach of the Argentinian rugby team, a former World Rugby Coach of the Year and one of the few people who might have had a real understanding of how Jones was feeling in that moment, having coached the Wallabies from 2014 to 2019. “One day when I grow up, I’m going to have to get a proper job, just like everyone else. I think this is... it’s a lifestyle.”
Cheika, 56, who is speaking to me today from his living room in Paris where he currently lives, loves the real-time, week-by-week, game-by-game accountability of his role (he refuses to call it a job). “That is the best because you know that the day-to-day will get you to the better results later on,” he says. “The ups are never as good if you haven’t had the downs. So, the thing I enjoy most is that attention to results.”
Cheika’s attitude is one that’s built not so much on self-confidence—though, of course, that is important—but supreme self-belief. “Confidence can come and go,” he says. “You can be swayed with confidence. Because after a bad result, you could have your doubts. But what brings you back is that sense of self-belief, that you know what you can do, and what you can achieve.”
If you want to know whether you truly love something, you can get pretty clear confirmation when the things you enjoy about it are the same ones as those you find challenging. Or as pop culture’s most recent coach du jour Ted Lasso has said: “Taking on a challenge is a lot like riding a horse, isn’t it? If you’re comfortable while you’re doing it, you’re probably doing it wrong.”
“Mental health in COACHING is a case of whatever doesn’t KILL you makes you stronger.”
Comfort certainly isn’t something you’ll find in abundance in elite-level coaching. This is a role that puts you on a war footing with failure. One in which pressure is a ceaseless companion, scrutiny can be forensic, and all that really matter, regardless of how much an organisation might bang on about about culture and development, are wins and losses that are there for all to see. Succeed and you’re a saint. Fail and you’re a sinner. As Tom Sizemore’s character says in Michael Mann’s Heat, “The action is the juice”. And if it’s not, well, you should probably find another gig.
In that sense, you could call the coaching environment at the top level of professional sports a cauldron. The mental strength required to operate under such a cutthroat dynamic is difficult to fathom. But mental strength is built on mental health. And while the psychological demands faced by players have become a major focus in the past decade, the same can’t be said of the mental burden carried by coaches. Does the authority and visibility of the position preclude it? Could an admission of weakness and vulnerability put your job at risk? In all likelihood, yes. But there is also the possibility that coaches, the ones who’ve survived, are mentally stronger because they have faced adversity, shouldered responsibility and been held accountable.
“I think that mental health in coaching is a case of whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Because if you are to survive long enough as a coach, you’re going to encounter all kinds of anxiety and depression, but you’re going to overcome them,” says Dr Bill Steffen, a former division one soccer coach in the US, and assistant professor in sports science at Wingate University in North Carolina, whose primary research focus is mental toughness in coaching. “You’re going to inoculate yourself to those two conditions. Yeah, you get depressed. Yeah, you get anxious. But you figure out how to handle it, or you don’t, in which case you exit coaching.”
If that is the case, could it be that the seat Jones was occupying at that press conference back in September, while hot enough, perhaps, to scold or even brand him, was one he could endure? Because coaching isn’t so much a cauldron as it is a crucible.
WHEN BRIAN GOORJIAN WAS appointed head coach of the Boomers in 2001 after more than a decade as an NBL coach, he had a very human reaction: am I good enough? “I was excited when I got the position, but as soon as I got it, I’d have to say I felt overwhelmed because the responsibility is huge,” says Goorjian, who’s enjoying a view of the Melbourne skyline on a clear Friday morning, as he speaks to me from his apartment in Prahan. “I thought, Am I good enough to do this? Everyone has those doubts in them and people don’t realise that. You feel insecure. This isn’t just you and your team. This is a country.”
Goorjian, whose heavy Californian twang remains strong despite emigrating here in the late ’70s, found his doubt disappeared once he entered the Boomers’ camp and immersed himself in the day-to- day minutiae of coaching, otherwise known as the X’s and O’s. There, the players and support staff would likely have never twigged that their loquacious, at times temperamental, always passionate coach might have felt unsure of himself. And Goorjian wasn’t about to tell them.
In a leadership position that hinges on authority and respect, there’s not a lot of room for outward expressions of uncertainty.
The popular image of the coach as a solitary figure on the sidelines of games means they’re easily reduced to caricature, at least by their critics in the media and in the often hackneyed archetypes they inhabit in popular culture—stubborn, taciturn, volatile, tight-lipped and inscrutable are a few of the more common adjectives used to describe top-level coaches. Lasso, in his unrelentingly cheesy and avuncular nature, clearly bucks the stereotype. But you do have to wonder how much coaches’ public profiles match their private personas. “I’ve spoken with coaches that say, ‘Yeah, I’m screaming just to scream, just to be a presence so that it looks like I’m doing things, even though I know I’m not’,” says Steffen.
Anson Dorrance, coach of the division one women’s soccer team at the University of North Carolina and former coach of the USWNT that won the inaugural Women’s World Cup in 1991, says many people are surprised when he describes himself as an introvert. “I’m a radical introvert,” says Dorrance from his car on the way home from practice in Chapel Hill. “So for me, even on this phone call, this is a performance. This isn’t me. This is me acting like the women’s soccer coach at the University of North Carolina.”
So, what defines mental toughness as it relates to coaching? Steffen conducted a study in which he and his team asked 22 elite-level coaches in the US that very question. The coaches surveyed came up with 46 characteristics, which were then narrowed down to a top 10. Confidence was rated the most important component in a coach’s mental make-up, followed by resilience, consistency, positivity, energy, passion, optimism, adaptability, inner strength and patience. The coaches were then asked if they thought these traits needed to be innate or could be developed. “Most thought it could be developed because a number of them said they weren’t mentally tough when they started coaching,” says Steffen. “Resilience is adversity and adjustment, and if you don’t have adversity, you can’t be resilient. Most coaches had some difficult times, yet they adjusted, they adapted, then they developed that resiliency.”
Cheika agrees coaches need to be mentally agile to succeed. “I’ve got an open mind as a coach but can also be very authoritarian,” he says. “I think that’s a real skill: to be able to be flexible, but to have single-mindedness when necessary. And then not be afraid to change if you feel like, Oh, no, this actually is better.”
Underpinning all of these traits is often an insane level of competitiveness. “Most people that think they’re competitive, I don’t think are competitive,” says Dorrance, who gleefully tells me he was the subject of a celebrated book, The Man Watching, which includes a chapter in which “everyone who hates me gives their opinion on me”.
It was Dorrance’s competitiveness that drove him, during one year of his 47-year tenure at UNC, to take a single Thursday afternoon off. “I was ok with that,” says the 72-year- old, who elevates plain speaking to an art form. “In fact, as my wife will tell you, I hate vacations because what’s going through my head is someone’s getting ahead of me.”
Clearly this level of commitment is not for everyone and even for those who possess it, is surely a double-edged sword. “The beauty of it [coaching] is that it’s not a nine-to-five job, and the curse of it is it’s not a nine-to-five job,” says Steffen, who also used to coach division one college soccer in the US and once had a year where he was away from home for 49 weekends on recruiting trips, a workload that hastened his transition from coaching into academia.
Dr Will Vickery, a senior advisor in coaching at the Australian Sports Commission, confirms that work- life balance is an alien concept to a majority of coaches. “It consumes your life, so you don’t really have a lot of time to switch off,” he says. “You forget the fact that it’s your job as opposed to your life.”
GOORJIAN KNEW HE MIGHT FACE a little extra heat when he stepped off the plane from Japan after the Boomers’ lacklustre FIBA World Cup campaign back in September. He expected it from the traditional media, who he has long courted and enjoyed a fruitful, symbiotic relationship with. But these days, of course, the real criticism, the stuff that might keep you up at night, doesn’t come from those who report on sports for a living. It’s from the anonymous keyboard combatants on social media. Fortunately, or perhaps astutely, Goorjian isn’t on social media. “My daughter’s like, ‘Don’t worry about what they’re saying’, so I’m like, Jesus, it must be fucking horrible.” Goorjian didn’t care to find out. “I’m oblivious.”
But he’s all too aware how such criticism affects the younger coaches he mentors, calling trolling the work of “cowards with no responsibility”. “Man, you’ve got to watch your mental health because some of that stuff is vile, really nasty,” he says. “I had a guy on the phone the other night and he was like, ‘They’re talking about my wife and my kid’. It breaks my heart.”
Cheika too, shuns social media but is similarly aware of its psyche-shredding potential. “All of a sudden you can be receiving everybody’s judgment,” he says. “It’s probably more in the domain of those who are just starting off in coaching. Whereas a coach my age, I wouldn’t know what anyone’s saying on social media. So it has no effect. And this is the thing, right? It’s a choice.”
While Cheika and Goorjian’s absence from social media removes it as a stressor, they don’t shy away from scrutiny from the mainstream media and are accepting of the fact that reporters, like them, have a job to do. “I always look at it like I’m getting rewarded for my work,” says Goorjian. “People say, ‘You can’t hide this’. I like that. I’m proud of what I’m doing, I’m proud of my team. I love that if I lose a certain number of games, my ass deserves to be in the firing line. It helps drive me.”
Cheika too, is not overly bothered by criticism of his performance; invariably, he’s already judged it for himself. “I’m an extremely harsh auto critic,” he says. “What role have I played and how has my performance been? I’m already asking those questions before any media ask me. I feel like the whole pressure thing is a bit overplayed.”
Of course, pressure also comes from within an organisation, particularly if you’re a coach who’s been brought in to help a team take the final step toward a championship, premiership or medal. Goorjian admits that his outstanding record as an NBL coach, including a three-peat with the Sydney Kings, has created expectations he’s found tough to deal with. “You can’t help but feel it within the organisation and to be truthful with you, that’s why I’ve coached overseas [in China] a lot in the last 15 years,” he says. “You don’t want to let people down.”
The perception created by a team’s position on the ladder can see pressure on a coach mount quickly. “Their win-loss record is their litmus test,” says Vickery. “If they’re not winning, then they’re almost seen as failing, which is absolutely not the case. But the public perception is often that way.”
Steffen, meanwhile, believes the focus on results warps perceptions around the job the coach is actually doing. “I think coaches get too much blame when they lose, but they also get too much credit when they win,” he says.
The fact is, when a team is underperforming, it’s not the star player who’s going to get the axe, even if fault lies within the locker room. “It’s easier to get rid of the coach,” says Steffen. “To sack one person versus sacking an entire team. It’s just easier to change it that way.”
In such a transparent, results-driven profession, job security will always be an issue, says Josh Frost, a researcher at the University of Melbourne’s Orygen Institute, who is currently completing his PhD on the mental health of elite coaches. “In last year’s Premier League season in the UK, 13 out of the 20 football clubs sacked or fired a coach. In some sports coach turnover is very prevalent.”
“It consumes your LIFE, so you don’t switch off. You forget that it’s your JOB as opposed to your life.”
Not surprisingly, those who’ve been in coaching for a while have developed strategies to deal with the precarious nature of their position. Cheika, for example, came into coaching from a successful business career and was already financially secure. “No one is forcing you to do this,” he says. “It’s a choice. I’ve always had my own businesses. What that does for you is give you that autonomy so you don’t make compromises for the reason of job security or because you need that salary to pay your mortgage.”
Earlier in his career, Goorjian, too, leaned on a teaching qualification as a form of insurance, allowing him not only to shelve worry about his financial future but also to take risks. “I always had a plan B,” he says. “I taught when I came to Australia. So, I had a mindset of, I’m in a casino, I’ve got five grand in my pocket that I’ve won,I’ve got the other 500 sitting on the table and I’m playing with the bank’s money. Risk-taking is a very important part of coaching. You’ve got to play a little bit by the seat of your pants.”
AS A FORMER PLAYER WITH THE Melbourne Demons in the AFL, Alistair Nicholson remembers his first coach, Neil Balme, being fired after a string of losses in 1997. “I got quite a strong dose of the instability and impact that can have on a football club and player group,” says Nicholson, who these days is the CEO of the AFL Coaches Association. “And then my time under Neale Daniher, there were times where I’d go, ‘You’re looking after us and looking after us well, but who’s looking after you?’ And I think that’s probably where the conversation is now.”
A 2020 study by the Orygen Institute conducted in partnership with the Australian Institute of Sport of 252 elite coaches found that 41 per cent of them had psychological symptoms that warranted treatment from a health professional, while 42 per cent reported potentially risky alcohol consumption. Almost a fifth (18 per cent) reported moderate to severe sleep disturbance and 14 per cent experienced very high psychological distress.
Frost believes the broad remit of modern coaching makes it inherently mentally demanding. He cites pressure from clubs, fan expectation, job insecurity and social media as contributing factors, which are compounded by long hours and frequent travel, often robbing coaches of the ability to access a support network. “I think a range of things can be very demanding and with a lot of social isolation and travelling, not having your social support around you can really contribute towards being more vulnerable to mental health challenges,” he says.
And while the argument can be made that adversity forges resilience in the longer term, the fact is, not all coaches are equipped to deal with the pressures of the job as well as others. This is only exacerbated by the fact that those who are struggling may not feel comfortable disclosing their difficulties due to concerns about the reaction from their organisations. “Coaches are leaders in their environment and might feel less inclined to exhibit or express emotions at the risk of receiving judgment from players or members of the hierarchy or board,” says Frost. “And that’s why it’s really important that organisations cultivate a psychologically safe culture to allow coaches to be able to express their emotions or challenges in an environment that has fewer consequences.”
Steffen returns to the sink-or-swim dynamic of coaching. “Sinking could lead to problems with mental health or you just get out of coaching,” he says. “I know a number of coaches that have just left coaching because of the demands. They felt like it wasn’t healthy.”
Sometimes coaches just need to refresh themselves, something often only afforded by default after contract termination. Increasingly, though, at least in the AFL, some coaches are choosing to take time off on their terms. “We’ve seen in the AFL some experienced coaches take a sabbatical or time -out and the boards have confidence that they’re going to bring something back to the club. Clarko [Alastair Clarkson] and Brad Scott and Ross Lyon came back after a period away and hopefully their energy levels will continue to let them do it because there’re only so many people that can do it at the top level, and do it well,” says Nicholson, whose organisation helped found, in 2018, a mental health education programme
for AFL community coaches and players called ‘Tackle Your Feelings’. Not surprisingly, the mental toll of the profession is something coaches will often only acknowledge behind closed doors, sometimes with other coaches who are equipped to understand the struggles they might face. Goorjian and Cheika both talk regularly to other national- level coaches. Both also see the advantages to be gained in seeking outside counsel. When Goorjian began coaching he employed a performance coaching consultant to evaluate him on and off the court. “Once a week, it’s like I’m sitting in the chair and he would say, ‘Let’s talk about you. You look tired, let’s talk about your...’ so I know that side of it.”
Similarly, after the World Cup, the 70-year-old sat down with a circle of trusted confidantes. “They knew I was going to call. They’ve watched every game. So it’s like let’s sit down and talk. If I have a problem and it’s affecting me, I have people I can go there with. You need it just like the players need it. You need to be evaluated. I’m like everybody else. I’m not made of steel.”
IF COACHING AT THE HIGHEST LEVEL does ultimately come down to winning and losing, you have to wonder how coaches mentally approach this inescapable, sometimes oppressive dynamic. While there is something to be said for attempting to embody Kipling’s immortal line, "If you can meet with triumph and disaster... And treat those two impostors just the same", coaches do have to allow for their own humanity.
“I think coaches get too much BLAME when they LOSE and too much CREDIT when they win.”
“On wins and losses, I have a rule where at midnight, that game is in the rear-view mirror,” says Goorjian. “If we win, I’ve got to celebrate with my staff, ‘Let’s have a meal together’. But at midnight I put it in the rear view mirror and it’s the same thing with a bad loss.”
Of course, the really big victories, the championships or Olympic medals should be savoured, he adds. “I got a three-peat with the Sydney Kings. You carry those rings around in your heart with that group for the rest of your lives. The bronze medal [at the 2021 Tokyo Olympics], I think about that every single day. I wake up and that’s something I carry. It never goes away.”
Cheika, who’s coming off a fourth- place finish with Argentina at the Rugby World Cup, is in a period of reflection when I speak to him. “Look, it’s hard for me because many would say we had a successful World Cup, finishing fourth. I’m still going through the last game where we could have finished third. What could I have done better in the lead-up? Not because I’m looking to be hard on myself but because I know that will serve me so that when that scenario or something similar occurs again, I’ll be able to make good decisions or better ones.”
That is, of course, all you can do, for soon enough victory and defeat are reduced to something altogether less august: statistics. And those, well, those can be damning, even for the most successful of coaches. “If the only time you’re happy is when you win the championship, you’re going to have a horrible career,” says Goorjian. “I’ve been in this close to 40 years; I’ve won six. It’s very, very rare that you finish a season with a win.”
This all serves to underline the fact that in this business, you need a healthy relationship with failure. Sport’s great conceit is that results mean everything and nothing. The stakes are a construct, the drama confected. “The greatest thing about sports is failure because it doesn’t matter if you fail,” says Dorrance. It’s a lesson he tells his players but one that might serve anyone compelled to embark on coaching as a career. “If you want to really grow, fail as often as you can and recover, because it’s in the failure that you’re going to learn about who the hell you are and you get to make a decision on who the hell you want to be.” Well said, coach.
Originally published on Esquire AUS
adidas doesn't get as much credit as it should with its running shoes. I mean, sure they were name-dropped by Run DMC but adidas are pretty good in the innovation department. The company came up with 4D printing as well as the Boost midsole tech... now that latter was a game changer. A reactive bouncy foam that returns energy with each stride? It scored higher than EVA (ethylene vinyl-acetate) soles. The Boost tech is made from TPU (thermoplastic polyurethane), which, like the EVA, does the whole cushioning, superior durability look but it also has a "high abrasion resistance".
So, we tried the adidas Supernova, a model that's made as an entry-level trainers for beginner runners. With a padded mesh upper, it has the Dreamstrike+ midsoles and other similar support rods. There's a considerable stack height. The best part of this was its Solution feature, which offers added longitudinal stability. So you've got your comfort with the Dreamstrike+ and then stability with the Solution.
Here's how good the Supernova Solution was: We started running and easily cleared three kilometres; each impact of my footfalls resulted in a "snap". Then, sensing little-to-no fatigue in the lower extremities, we decided to continue another 10km. I was able to maintain my running gait for much longer. At five kilometres, my speed has slowed but my feet were so cushioned that it never occured to me to stop.
Overall, the Supernova Solution is muy bueno. And considering that it's made out of recycled materials, this is not too shabby.
Urban life. While that promises living comforts, urban living can stifle the body and souls. You need to step out, "touch grass" as they say. every step counts. HOKA, the titan in performance footwear rewrites the playbook with the release of their latest lifestyle marvel: the Kawana 2. Not just another pair of running shoes, these are a statement on the track. What you have on your feet is a fusion of form and function that necessitates into the tapestry of daily movement.
In your navigation of the streets, seamlessly transition from pavement to studio; work to play; that's where the Kawana 2 shines brightest. Aside from its design, it's all down to the nitty-grittiness of its construction. There's the enhanced foot lockdown and cushioned comfort; and the Kawana 2 is engineered for the dynamic demands of urban life.
Find the Kawana 2 at HOKA's latest pop-up at Foot Locker Orchard. From now until 25 April, immerse yourself in a diverse range of footwear, from signature running shoes to everyday essentials like, I mean, since we're on the topic, the Kawana 2.
And the best part? Not only do you walk away with your own HOKA shoes, you get to receive a complimentary tote bag that you can personalise.
When you are racing across open waters at speeds closing in on 50 knots (which is just under 100kmh), you feel the crest of every wave as your vessel cuts through it. It is rough, as though the sea resents the intrusion and is ferociously trying to throw you off. By you, we mean anyone aboard the speedboat. If you are not strapped into a seat or holding on for dear life, you are likely to get lifted off your feet and dumped overboard. Holding on is exactly what I am doing as the Luna Rossa attempts to demonstrate the speeds that its foiling monohull can achieve.
Of course, the Luna Rossa Prada Pirelli team tells us that experiencing stomach-churning speeds on a powered vessel cannot really compare with what it feels like to sail aboard a foiling monohull. For one thing, even at the speeds we manage here off the coast of Cagliari, Italy, we would still be trailing behind the AC75 racing yacht that Luna Rossa will be fielding in the 37th America’s Cup 2024. Yes, speedboats can be outpaced by five-tonne sailing yachts, and—for some context—that is like saying a mechanical watch could be more precise than a quartz watch. This, of course, is a segue because we are here at the Luna Rossa base in Sardinia at the invitation of Panerai; the Swiss Made Italian watch brand is an official Luna Rossa sponsor.
Now, before you go accusing us of having too much Franciacorta—not to mince words about it—besides having our brains baked by the Sardinian sun, you should know that the AC75 monohulls have been known to achieve speeds in excess of 50 knots. Google it. In any case, the America’s Cup represents peak sailing, both from the perspective of sailing the monohulls and engineering them.
The legendary regatta is the Formula One of the sailing world and has been since before the motorcar was even a gleam in Karl Benz’s eye. Like the development of the automobile, the America’s Cup has quite a rich narrative and so we give it its own section. While the contemporary reality of sailing is far removed from its roots, some context is still useful. Just so you know, the America’s Cup is the world’s oldest sporting competition of any kind, with the first having taken place in 1851.
If you are in the mood to have your mind boggled by some sailing yacht facts, here's the low-down on the standard monohull hydrofoil that will be used in the coming America’s Cup. The AC75 (or America’s Cup 75 footer) is also the basis of the prototype that Luna Rossa is using, but more on that in due course. It helps to first know what in the world a hydrofoil monohull sailing yacht is, and how it manages to just glide above the waves.
The simple answer is that there are wings called hydrofoils attached to the hull, left and right, and these do what wings normally do. The tips or ends of these two wings and a rudder are the only elements that are in contact with the water when the yacht is at speed. Which makes it look for all the world like it is flying across the waves. Such a vessel should easily move at twice the prevailing wind speed, and might even go faster. This is difficult to grasp because the yacht is wind-powered after all, but it is what happens.
Here is what we have been able to glean from official sources on the technical details. The aforementioned wings are canting ballasted T-wing hydrofoils mounted on the port and starboard topside longitudinal drums; there is a centreline T-wing rudder, and no keel (source: Wikipedia).
All of the above is certainly standard fare but the America’s Cup race did not start using the hydrofoil design until 2017, and the monohull variant dates from just two years ago (2021). Team Luna Rossa itself is working on a new prototype, the LEQ 12, with the following publicly declared specifications:
This puts the LEQ 12 at an apparent disadvantage as far as top speeds go, because the AC75 has been clocked at speeds beyond 50 knots. But then of course, that is straight line speed, and the thing about sailing boats is the way they turn. Again, perhaps counterintuitively, sailing vessels can and do sail into the wind, and have been doing so since some clever sailor somewhere figured out how to angle the sails just right.
On that note, consider that the Luna Rossa team considers itself pretty clever too since it opted to create its own boat from scratch to challenge team New Zealand, the defender of the America’s Cup. The 10,000 sqm Cagliari base camp is where Luna Rossa is doing most of its development work, which is not inconsiderable. There is also a 4,000 sqm site in Barcelona, Spain, which is where the AC75 Challenger Selection Series will begin next year. In fact, Luna Rossa was one of the teams that developed the aforementioned AC75 foiling monohull standard.
Given that it predates the first Olympic Games by 45 years, the America’s Cup (also known as Auld Mug) is really the world’s oldest international sporting event. The first race was held in 1851 while the Summer Olympics began in 1896. It was originally a showdown between two yacht clubs or organisations in Great Britain and the United States, and what we call the America’s Cup today is named for the schooner that won the first race in 1851, the America.
The first defence of the America’s Cup only took place in 1870, by which time the New York Yacht Club, which was the steward of the Cup, was already under one of the most famous of the competition’s rules. That the holder of the America’s Cup is obliged to defend its right to steward Auld Mug (as it was originally called) should any qualifying club issue a challenge. This remains the case to this day. That is why the America’s Cup champion is called the Defender, while its rival is called the Challenger of Record. Until 1967, there was only one Challenger but from 1970, multiple clubs issued qualifying challenges. This was the beginning of the Challenger Selection Series. For this leg, all America’s Cup challengers competed until a victor emerged as the Challenger of Record to take on the Defender.
The race between the Challenger and Defender has evolved over time too, but the affair is still relatively stately, with the Defender and Challenger agreeing to terms prior to every challenge.
Watch collectors will be more familiar with Panerai as the military secret that equipped Italian navy divers with precision instruments than anything else. The contemporary Panerai watchmaking brand has been associated with all manner of marine activities for the better part of this century. Since 2017, Panerai has created wristwatches with the sorts of materials that America’s Cup teams were experimenting with. One might even say that Panerai’s penchant for material innovation makes it an ideal partner for a racing team such as Luna Rossa, which is precisely how team Luna Rossa describes the watchmaker.
Of course, Panerai recognises its own virtues in exploring new frontiers in watchmaking, as Ficarelli told us, citing just the example of PAM01039. The brand knows to maximise on the emotional qualities of being innovative, which points to a certain spirit of boldness. Here, we enter the realm of character. As Panerai connects the dots between past and present, it hopes to build bridges with a community of watch lovers. “Storytelling is pivotal in cementing Panerai’s legitimacy, intertwining its deep-seated maritime roots with its modern identity,” said Ficarelli. “By chronicling its journey from creating robust instruments for the Italian Navy to embracing the adrenaline of performance boating, Panerai underscores its heritage and authenticity. Each watch, steeped in historical value and innovative prowess, symbolises a continuity of tradition and a forward-looking vision, fortifying the brand’s connection with enthusiasts who value both the legacy and the ongoing maritime saga.”
Panerai had a dedicated Luna Rossa series of watches that span a number of ranges. This includes the Submersible (although the 1309 is currently unavailable). Panerai watches are typically in-demand so the availability of Luna Rossa watches should be monitored closely. Currently, our pick includes the Luminor Luna Rossa Chrono Carbotech PAM01519 and the Luminor Luna Rossa Quaranta BiTempo PAM01404. The impressively named latter watch is especially notable for its automatic P.900 GMT calibre, which has a three-day power reserve. The chronograph is powered by calibre P.9200 and is currently the only available Luna Rossa watch cases in Carbotech. This is important for this watch because it is a 44mm whopper. The GMT model is a more reasonable 40mm watch in steel. There are also two Luminor Due references worth taking note of: PAM 01378 and PAM 01381.
Just as Formula One is an expensive sport, so too is the business of the America’s Cup. It's estimated that operating the teams running up to US$200 million for each competitive run. This is evident in the Luna Rossa base camp. There are at least two simulators, two prototypes (a slightly scaled-down model that we saw and another full-size model that takes to the waves), in-house manufacturing capabilities and engineers and technicians of many stripes all working together to develop the LEQ 12 that will eventually be the Luna Rossa racing yacht. In total, there are approximately 118 people on the distinctly Italian team. That includes the Skipper and Team Director Max Sirena and Circolo Della Vela Sicilia President Patrizio Bertelli.
If there is one Panerai watch that embodies the story here, it must be the Submersible Luna Rossa PAM01039. Panerai chief marketing officer Alessandro Ficarelli explains: “(The watch) stands out due to its use of innovative materials like Carbotech (a specially developed material used by the brand), representing the brand’s adventurous spirit and its watchmaking expertise. Moreover, its aesthetic intertwines sporty resilience with elegance, including details like the incorporation of actual sail material, which symbolises a forward-thinking vision that aligns with Panerai’s maritime legacy and its future aspirations.”
Those aspirations are on show on this visit to Sardinia, which was actually part of Panerai’s now-famous experiences. The Luna Rossa vessel itself might be a very expensive closely-held secret that amateurs have no business messing with. Although there are all manner of maritime activities that can be associated with the competitive team’s preparations. Popular on this particular occasion was water-skiing. But Panerai also went the distance with a surfing experience with the brand’s ambassador, surfing champion Leonardo Fioravanti. Of course, everything will pay off nicely for Panerai should Luna Rossa be on top form during the America’s Cup. First though, whether the Luna Rossa team will become the Challenger of Record in 2024. That will be determined when the season begins in Barcelona.
Photographs courtesy of Panerai and Luna Rossa
You're going to be seeing a lot more sports-driven capsule collections by luxury brands leading up to the 2024 Olympic and Paralympic Games—at least by those under the LVMH umbrella of brands. The French luxury conglomerate headed by the second (at the time of writing) wealthiest man in the world has signed on as a Premium Partner of the Paris 2024 Games.
"This unprecedented partnership with the Paris 2024 Olympic and Paralympic Games will contribute to heightening the appeal of France around the world. It was only natural that LVMH and its maisons be part of this exceptional international event. The values of passion, excellence and inclusion championed by high-level sports are cultivated each day by our teams, motivated by an unwavering desire to surpass limits. Sports is a tremendous source of inspiration for our maisons, which will unite creative excellence and athletic performance by contributing their savoir-faire and bold innovation to this extraordinary celebration," says LVMH chairman and chief executive officer Bernard Arnault.
The deal means that LVMH and its groups of luxury brands—across fashion, jewellery, cosmetics, and wine and spirits—will partake in key moments throughout the Games.
Parisian jeweller Chaumet is tasked with crafting the Games' medals that will be received by athletes who have proven their mettle and skills in each event. LVMH's drinks division with Möet Hennessy wines and spirits will take charge of the hospitality elements for guests as well as athletes. During the Olympic Torch Relay, Sephora is set to organise activations for the public at stops as well as key locations along the route.
On the fashion front, Louis Vuitton, Dior, and Berluti are set to announce their activations that will be scheduled all the way till the opening ceremony of Paris 2024. While little is known about the exact plans, it's been reported by multiple media sources that there's the possibility that the brands will be sponsoring uniforms. What LVMH has announced in its official press release is the 'Artisans of All Victories' principle that will guide the group's decision to support individual athletes too. The first is Léon Marchand—the 21-year-old who is France's leading hope for a medal in swimming.
As Premium Partner, LVMH is also dedicated to not only support professional athletes but also prospective ones. The group will partner French non-profit organisation Secours populaire français in support of a program to facilitate access to sports for underprivileged youths aged between 4 to 25. The aid will include funding for sports association memberships, training programs and beginner classes.
LVMH is by no means a stranger to the sports arena, especially in relation to its luxury fashion maisons. Louis Vuitton, for example, has continuously partnered up with big-named sporting events the likes of the Rugby World Cup, Davis Cup, Formula 1 Grand Prix de Monaco, as well as the 2022 FIFA World Cup. The maison also most recently signed tennis player Carlos Alcazar as its house ambassador, days before he became a Wimbledon champion.
The Paris 2024 Olympic and Paralympic Games will mark LVMH's biggest sporting event partnership yet. Not only will they be watched by an estimate of over 13 million spectators and 4 billion television viewers worldwide, it will also be the first time that the Games are hosted by Paris in 100 years.
