Everybody called him "Sully." In retrospect, it wasn't a particularly creative nickname for a Massachusetts sailor, but with him it really fit. Sully raced J/24s at my local club, drank tons of beer, always laughed, and was the coolest sailor I knew. Nearly 20 years later, I can still picture how Floridays, the name on his boat's transom, stood out to me from my Optimist-level vantage point. But Sully's words, passed down to him from his father, struck me the most. I was about 10 years old, had just won one of my first regattas, and he yanked me aside. "It's not the glory, it's the chase," he said. "It's not the trophy, it's the race!"