Only the America's Cup stands between them. Russell Coutts takes a seat to the left of the shiny silver jug, Dean Barker to the right. No big hello from the old friends, no handshake. Barker looks for a second as if he's waiting for it, but Coutts has tunnel vision.
The final showdown in front of the world's press. With boxers, you would expect rehearsed, martial verbal battles between the opponents. With sailors, it's non-verbal. It is a psychological duel, and Russell Coutts has no intention of hugging his former pupil. He doesn't look at him once during the press conference.
His body language clearly shows: "Keep your hands off that jug, kid. That's mine." Dean Barker does not radiate this inner conviction. He puffs out his cheeks several times, feeling uncomfortable. Trying to relax, he leans back in his chair.
Then the first defeat. Barker draws blue in the draw for the starting grid. In the first race on Saturday, he has to enter the starting box from the disadvantaged left-hand side without a right of way. Neither skipper shows any emotion.
It's a press conference of short answers. Question: "It would be the first time that a newcomer has won the Cup." Ernesto Betrarelli: "That's right, we'll see if we can make history."
Question: "What is it like to sail against your former teacher?" Barker: "An interesting challenge."
There is a hint of humour when the skippers are asked if they have trouble sleeping before the decisive race. Both answer in the negative. Coutts speaks with an impassive face, in his own hissing, almost lisping way, about the value of a good massage before a night like this.
Which leads to the wives of the two skippers. They can relax with them, they both say. Because they don't talk about sailing.
"And what did you get for Valentine's Day?" Coutts: "I can't talk about that here."
The longer banal questions are asked and banal answers are given, the more bored the Alinghi skipper looks. He repeats for the umpteenth time that he will not protest against the hula. He trusts the surveyors to do their job properly.
Only once does he prick up his ears. Ernesto Bertarelli is asked what he thinks of the New Zealanders' "loyal" campaign. But the Alinghi boss, who always smiles sympathetically, doesn't use this opportunity to settle scores with the Kiwis. He remains as polite as ever and emphasises how natural the home advantage is.
But there is also tremendous support in Switzerland. An entire city is decorated with Alinghi flags and yesterday the Swiss president contacted us with his best wishes. "We know about the support and are very happy about it."
Bertarelli radiates a deep sense of contentment. He enjoys sitting in this position. And when asked whether he would continue in the event of defeat, he says "Yes" loud and clear. Regardless of the threat his team members have received.
Anyone who has forgotten this is reminded by the two bodyguards standing in the background. They look menacingly and searchingly into the crowd of jostling journalists. Some of them refrain from reaching into their inside pockets.
Then the show is over. Everyone stands up and shakes hands dutifully. Only Tom Schnackenberg is already giving an interview away from the scene. This is the moment when even Russell Coutts seems helpless. Should he fight his way to Schnack to shake hands with his old mentor? Or does he not want to? Coutts tries, but then he is asked to take a photo with Barker.
