Crossing the atrium of the building, they were struck by its size. Stretching up over five floors, it hosted three full-sized palm trees, a large rock display, and copious amounts of running water — including a thirty-foot fountain. Bypassing the reception desk and elegant waiting area, they were led straight to the lift marked Guests Only.
With a slight popping of their ears, the lift rocketed up through forty-seven floors in a matter of seconds. The Ptarmigan team was soon ushered gracefully into a vast open office occupying half the floor. Over by the large continuous plate-glass window Dr Chen and his directors were sitting at a long conference table. They rose and greeted their visitors once more. Before the formal meeting began, the visitors were invited to make the most of their platform in the sky — being introduced to the aerial views of Shanghai. An astonishing sight. All the shapes on the far side of the river were shrouded in a mist as the sun was only just beginning to burn through the cloud. Several landmarks were pointed out. The M on the Bund, where they had dined the night before. The Old HSBC building. The extent of the International Settlement. And the area of the French Concession.
The CEO of Mandarin Telecom soon invited the visitors to sit at the long table. ‘Gentlemen,’ said Dr Chen as he took his seat. ‘We are pleased to have reached a satisfactory point in our negotiations.’ Looking up he nodded to his female assistant who promptly walked forward carrying a number of leather folders. Each person, starting with the visitors, had one placed before them.
‘We have, here,’ Dr Chen explained, ‘the Memorandum of Understanding covering the sponsorship of the Ptarmigan Formula One Team for the next three years.’
Straker waited until it was evidently okay to open his folder. As he did so, he saw the agreement was beautifully laid out, typeset in English alongside Chinese characters.
‘This is indeed exciting,’ said Quartano addressing Dr Chen and then looking into the faces of the Chinese directors in turn. ‘We are all inspired by the potential of this association between our two companies.’
‘Thank you, Mr Quartano. Likewise. As we have agreed, and is set out formally in here,’ continued Dr Chen laying an open hand deferentially over his leather folder, ‘we will move to full contracts as soon as we can. We have agreed with your Mr Callom that news of this will be embargoed until the Singapore Grand Prix in two weeks’ time. There, we will make a preliminary announcement, looking to sign the contract itself at the Chinese Grand Prix, here in Shanghai, two weeks after that.’
‘That would be most fitting, Dr Chen.’
At which point the Chinese CEO was handed a Montblanc fountain pen by his female assistant. Through his thick black-rimmed spectacles Dr Chen looked down and signed the Memorandum of Understanding on the largest sponsorship deal in Formula One history.
Seven hundred and fifty million dollars over three years.
The deal was done.
Almost.
FORTY-TWO
Quartano flew the team back with him from Shanghai to London in the Quartech Falcon later the same day. There was an exuberant mood on the plane as they toasted and revelled in the prospect of the Mandarin Telecom sponsorship.
For Ptarmigan, there was the excitement of knowing the team had secured an unprecedented budget and the wherewithal to challenge unhindered for the two Championships in Formula One over the next three years — providing an opportunity, with a level of financial predictability, none of the staff would have known in their motor racing careers.
For Quartano, there was the satisfaction of having done it again — even in his seventies: of spotting an opportunity, of committing to a distressed commercial situation, of providing leadership and business expertise, of appointing the right people, of building the right team, and of then seeing his judgement bear fruit. Rarely, though, had such a turnaround yielded such a quantifiable — and sizeable — benefit quite so quickly. Ptarmigan, bought for a symbolic £1 when the team was on its uppers nine months before, was now attracting third-party funding worth three-quarters of a billion dollars.
Straker, still thinking about the tension in Monza, was so buoyed by the mood on board he decided to take some initiative. Firing off a text to Sabatino while they were in the air, he wrote:
I think we need to talk about things. Can we grab some time in Singapore? Matt.
He felt it was unemotive, short — to the point.
He felt better just with the sending of it.
Two days later, though, he had not had a reply.
This did not do his frame of mind any good. Unresolved tension threatened to drag his psyche down. He craved a distraction, but the bank holiday weekend was long and empty. Straker found solace occupying the part of his mind he always felt energized when playing bridge — except the last thing he wanted was to be sociable. Instead, he played — alone in his flat — against his Pro Bridge Professor. He played the machine for hours on end, making, among other contracts: two small slams, a dozen game calls, and managing on one occasion to get the machine four down in three no trumps. For Straker, an electronic game didn’t come anywhere close to playing the game for real, particularly the feeling of being on a wavelength — when bidding tightly — with a partner. And, he was well aware how sad playing this game — alone — truly was. But, at the same time, he also knew that, currently, he was not himself.
Whatever the stigma of such a solitary occupation might be, he didn’t care. Its mental stimulation — made possible in delicious isolation — served a therapeutic purpose, and worked for him. It managed to tide him over psychologically, until he was ready to leave for Singapore.
As Straker left for the Far East, though, there had still been no reply of any kind from Sabatino.
The press conference announcing Mandarin Telecom’s sponsorship of Ptarmigan was to be held in the Ballroom of Raffles Hotel on the morning of Qualifying for the Singapore Grand Prix.
Quartano flew out to join the Ptarmigan team — to present this coup to the sport and to the world.
The ballroom was heaving with journalists and TV cameras.
Everyone was there.
At the appointed time, the lights were dimmed and a video was run. Dramatic music and a stirring voice-over announced the tie-up between China’s largest telecommunications business and the glamorous world of Formula One racing.
The imagery was spectacular, but so was the message.
A substantial business from an Eastern communist country was ready to break out globally and embrace the consumer markets of the West — through the medium of the world’s most exciting sport. Formula One was showing itself to be significant enough to begin breaking down geopolitical barriers.
At the end of the video, Quartano took to the stage accompanied by Dr Chen, the CEO of Mandarin Telecom, and Tahm Nazar, Ptarmigan’s Team Principal.
The room fell silent.
Quartano’s rounded baritone voice commanded complete attention as he declared the partnership with Mandarin and introduced Dr Chen.
The Chinese tycoon, ironically a card-carrying member of the China Communist Party, declared his company’s delight in the sponsorship of the team and stated that their aim was to enjoy the exposure of motor racing around the world to build the most successful telecoms company on the planet.
Having made their statements, there were questions from the journalists. Their recurring theme was clear: ‘How much is this sponsorship worth?’