There are a lot of hackneyed sayings in sailboat racing, but the one that really nails it most of the time is the one about the guy who makes the fewest mistakes. He or she typically wins. But when you find yourself mumbling these very words at the end of a day in which you just can't seem to catch a break you know you've done yourself in, and you've done so more than once. It's an easy way to brush aside the reality that you sailed a terrible regatta, the reality that you should have, and could have, done a hell of a lot better.

Today, on the final day of Acura Key West Race Week presented by Rolex my crewmates and I on the J/109 Tastes Like Chicken racked up enough blunders to fill a suitcase. We'd started the final day deeper in the standings than we'd wanted to be (just like everyone else here who was mid-fleet), so we obviously set our goals high: it's the last day, so we've gotta go all out and sail hard. The rest will come.

Maybe we set our goals too high.

When the race committee sent us out early for three races we were intent on avoiding the mental and physical breakdowns that had plagued us each and every race thus far (OK, every one except our keeper second on the first day).

"Last day, new day, let's do this" summed up our plan for the day.

We did "it." But we didn't do "that."

After a decent start in the day's first race, a bit late and sandwiched between two bigger boats, we eventually cleared out to the right side of the racecourse, following the forecasts of handful of weather experts, and getting to the side that would pay most. But when your competition is going the other way, you can seriously start to doubt yourself. And doubt we did, foregoing our convictions and sailing back and fourth through the middle of the racecourse again, something we'd told ourselves over and over not to do. As the fifth and last start on a racecourse, which included the big-boys of IRC and the Swan 42 class, the middle was a washing machine; the water as confused as the air. Let's just say that didn't work out so well. Should have stuck to our original game plan and gotten to a side.

Next race, a better start, and this time we stick to our agenda. Things are clicking, tacks are smoother than they've been all week, and we're finally sailing our own race, extending on every leg, digging into the groove that puts us ahead of the fleet at the last weather mark. One leg to go and we've got this one in the bag, maybe even the J/109 sub-class. Round the mark, and "swish." Into the drink goes the lime-green kite and it's pretty much over despite our best efforts to get it on board and a new one flying. With the lead in hand, we should have taken our time in setting the kite.

Next race, an incredibly long five-legger, same decent start, good heads-up sailing, and we're in the hunt again. Going fast, beating the boats we need to beat. Then we get greedy, or maybe it was overconfident, carrying two late jibes in 20 knots as we approach the gate. Our last-minute attempt at a smooth Mexican goes south, literally, and the mark is quickly upwind in our wake. It's painful to watch the boats behind round and carry on. We should have called the early douse and canned the last spinnaker jibe.

But we grind back into the game and have a great downwind leg, arriving at the last leeward gate bunched with the boats we need to beat. They go right gate, we go left, round, and tack shortly thereafter in a favorable right shift. We knew it was coming and for once looked pretty smart, though not nearly as smart as the J/120 Emocean, which had sailed off by its lonesome to win its seventh straight race. But in the long final beat, we somehow managed to drag ourselves backwards at every opportunity. And after a long, drawn-out beat that seemed to last for nearly an hour, all four J/109s came together at the finish, short tacking and facing each other into the final stretch. In the mixed-up melee we fired off a round of blunders that trumped anything we'd done all week: a few bad tacks and an equal amount of play calling, and we managed to drag ourselves to the back of the pack. We should've played that last beat better so we could have ended on a good note. That would have made the week. Should have, could have, would have.