"Rock star" challenger troubles Chávez Henrique Capriles liberally tosses baseball caps emblazoned with the colours of the Venezuelan flag into the writhing mass of an adoring crowd. A scramble ensues to catch what has become a symbol of his campaign to unseat Hugo Chávez, Venezuela's socialist president, who is accused by his youthful opposition rival of polarising the country between Mr Chávez's red-shirted followers and what the antagonistic leader likes to call "the squalid ones" - Mr Capriles" supporters. The 40-year-old has seized on the red, yellow and blue cap - in contrast to the red beret preferred by Mr Chávez, a former paratrooper - to emphasise his message of reconciliation and inclusiveness in a country he says is tired of confrontation after almost 14 years of "Bolivarian revolution." "I don't care about [the colour of] the shirt you want to wear, what I care about is progress," roared Mr Capriles to cheers from supporters waving flags of all colours at a campaign rally this week. The business-friendly law graduate, who admires Nelson Mandela and Mahatma Gandhi, has a little more than a week left before presidential elections on October 7 to persuade Venezuelans that Mr Chávez's government has squandered an oil boom, with little to show for it but unfulfilled promises. "The model to follow is Brazil," Mr Capriles tells the Financial Times in the back of his campaign bus, after swiftly changing his sweat-drenched shirt at the end of an exhausting day of campaigning in the western city of Valencia last weekend. Although derided by Mr Chávez as a "neoliberal," Mr Capriles describes himself as a "progressive," underlining the need to boost private investment, which has collapsed after heavy-handed state intervention in the economy, while maintaining Mr Chávez's popular social programmes. Lacking Mr Chávez's almost unlimited access to media and oil-fuelled public finances, Mr Capriles has embarked on a feverish "door-to-door" tour of the country, visiting more than 250 communities since July, often several a day at different ends of the country, from remote settlements in the Amazon and the Andes to cattle-ranching plains and urban slums. "I'm tireless," he said, still fizzing with energy after a day of blowing kisses at his swooning female admirers, having babies thrust in his face for blessings and autographing tricolour baseball caps. His hyperkinetic grassroots campaign contrasts with Mr Chávez's who, recovering from cancer, has preferred to address voters on television or hold mass rallies in select locations. The normally garrulous leader's speeches have been scarcer and shorter than usual, sparking speculation that his recovery may not be as complete as he claims. The strategy appears to be working, with polls showing an increasingly tight race - the latest from well-regarded Consultores 21 gives Mr Capriles a slight lead, although equally respected Datanalisis put Mr Chávez 10 points ahead. Enthusiastic crowds meet him wherever he goes. "He's a rock star," says Alejandro Barrios, an old friend. "He wasn't like that at school though," he says, claiming that he used to be "extremely shy" and that the athletic man affectionately known by his followers as "El Flaco," Spanish for thin, used to weigh 30 kilos more than now. "I've never seen anyone change for the better like he has," said Mr Barrios, explaining that it wasn't until university that he developed a taste for exercise, especially basketball and jogging - and women. He was quite a womaniser, he had a lot of girlfriends. One important change, according to Mr Barrios, came during a four-month stint in prison, after Mr Capriles was accused of inciting a mob outside the Cuban Embassy and "invading" the premises during an attempted opposition coup in 2002. Although he claims that as mayor of the local district he was just trying to calm things down, he served his sentence - just as Mr Chávez did after his own 1992 coup attempt - and says that he became a more devout Catholic, wearing a cross around his neck ever since. Mr Chávez, 58, has seized on the episode in a bid to link his adversary with the discredited generation of politicians that ruled the country before he swept to power, stoking fears that Mr Capriles represents a return to the past. He also accuses Mr Capriles, born into a wealthy family that owns a large cinema chain, of being a rich kid who doesn't understand or care about Venezuela's majority poor. Mr Chávez rarely calls him by his name and instead has invented a range of colourful insults, such as "arse-kissing loser." Earlier this year, Mr Chávez called him a pig five times in two sentences. Others have gone further still. "They say I'm a drug addict, that I'm gay - come on, please!" scoffs Mr Capriles. "They even call me a Nazi, what a nerve," he says heatedly, adding that he had to respond to that particular accusation "in honour of my great-grandparents," who died in a Nazi concentration camp. But such tactics failed to prevent Mr Capriles from beating one of Mr Chávez's closest allies to win the governorship of the country's second biggest state, Miranda, which has a large urban poor population. As governor, Mr Capriles worked successfully with "chavistas," valuable experience if he wins the presidency since supporters of Mr Chávez will remain in control of many state institutions, including congress. "This is a historic opportunity," says Mr Capriles. If I don't win, if I get it wrong, a whole generation will fall off the cliff, a country's hopes will be dashed.