CHAMPIONS need worthy opponents, and the progression of Ben Ainslie from rare talent to full maturity as the best dinghy sailor in the world was due in large part to one of sport’s great rivalries.

“Robert Scheidt is the sailor I respect most in the world and I look back on those five or six years when we pushed each other to such a high level as the making of my Olympic career,” Ainslie said.

There were echoes of that rivalry yesterday in the abandoned medal race at Qingdao, when Ainslie repeated the famous occasion at the Sydney Olympics when he ruthlessly — and legally — obstructed Scheidt, the legendary Brazilian, in the final race of the Laser class. In China it was the hapless American, Zach Railey, the only person who just might deny the Briton the gold, who got the Ainslie treatment, being harried at every turn. It wasn’t gentlemanly; maybe it wasn’t fair, but it was pure Ainslie. That monumental will to win, and the methods and techniques to make sure of winning, all began with the battle to match and beat Scheidt.

“Robert is about four years older than me and when I first came into Lasers in 1994 he was winning everything,” Ainslie said. “I modelled myself on him, looked at the way he sailed and put his campaign together, how he held himself on and off the water. The way he sailed the boat was so active and aggressive, maximising the equipment, surfing the waves. He brought a whole new technique to it. People used to just go downwind and point at the next mark. He started sailing different angles, acute angles, using the waves. He was so fast nobody could touch him. I set myself the task of learning his techniques and getting to his level.”

After the lessons in technique, Scheidt administered the ultimate lesson in making absolutely sure of victory. At Ainslie’s first Olympics, Atlanta 1996, when he was 19, he was lying in the silver medal position before the final race, with only Scheidt between himself and the gold. “It sounds stupid now, but I was wondering whether I would ever get another chance to win a gold medal,” Ainslie said.

“There were a few recalls before that final race. Then they put up the black flag, which means anybody over the line in the next start will be disqualified. Robert was pretty cunning because he was sitting near the committee boat and must have heard them call out his sail number, that he was over the line, so he just sheeted in and started over the line with 10 seconds to go, knowing he was over it. When one goes, others go because they don’t want to be given the jump. So about 20 boats went. I was among them and we all got disqualified and the net result was that Robert won the gold and I got the silver. Yes, in its way it was brilliant.”

Four years later, in Sydney, the boot was on the other foot. Ainslie held a narrow lead over Scheidt as they waited for the start of the final Olympic race for the Lasers.

“There were a couple of abandoned starts which gave the game away to Robert what I was going to do,” Ainslie said. “He was prepared for it and it was difficult to get hold of him. I just managed to do so in the last five seconds before the start, which was perfect because he had a penalty and the rest of the fleet went off while he had to do his penalty-turn and I waited for him.”

Ainslie let the fleet sail away and set out to block Scheidt at every turn, weaving across him, taking his wind, preventing him from rounding the first mark.

“It was very aggressive, with plenty being said between the boats,” Ainslie said. “Robert shouted in Portuguese. I don’t know what he was saying but I don’t imagine it was too friendly. Eventually he’d had enough and rammed me, got away and did a good job chasing the pack. I had done a pretty good job but then I thought this is Robert, he could do the unthinkable, catch and pass the fleet, so I’d better try to get past him again to slow him down again.

“On the last leg to the finish I was just behind him. I followed the fleet, which had gone one way while Robert went off on his own miles away. There was a massive change of wind in Sydney Harbour and Robert was overtaking boat after boat and I was thinking, ‘Oh no, I can’t believe this’. But he didn’t quite make it. In any case, there was a protest and he got disqualified.

“That was the most intense thing I’ve ever done. It’s in those moments when I feel most alive. That’s why you do it, why we compete, for the heat of battle when everything else goes out of your mind.”

He was at it again in Qingdao, giving a demonstration of how to cover an opponent, letting the fleet sail far away into the haze while he put Johnson in shackles. Ainslie waited for Johnson at the start and covered him like a rash. If Johnson tacked left, Ainslie tacked as well. There was no escape until Ainslie relented for a moment and sailed away to round the first mark. He was there more than a minute ahead of Johnson but once he had rounded the mark he sat and waited for the American. He wasn’t going to risk Johnson getting some puff of wind on which he might miss out. He allowed Johnson to catch him and then started it all again, taking his wind, staying in front of him, forcing him away from his intended line.

The shame of it was that the wind became so light that the blue-and-white chequered flag was hoisted: race abandoned. Not that it was likely to make any difference. When hostilities resume, Johnson will be plagued by Ainslie once again. When gold is in the offing, Ainslie leaves nothing to chance.

On the water, he is not a nice person. He’s a winner. Fortunately, Ainslie on dry land is extremely personable. “If I was the same personality off the water as I am on it I wouldn’t have many friends,” he said. He has plenty.