As the dawn calm was punctured by a solitary figure powering effortlessly through the water, James Hickman knew he was watching a sporting great at work.

This was not an Olympic final. Or a championship race. Or a practice session.

It was just the warm-up to a routine training swim – and Hickman, still on the starting blocks, was supposed to be swimming alongside this gangly teenager as he tumble-turned at the far end of the pool.

This was the Leeds swimmer's first proper introduction to Michael Phelps – the American phenomenon who hopes to rewrite the history books at next month's Beijing Olympics.

He is seeking to win an unprecedented eight gold medals, one more than the "magnificent seven" won by the moustached all-American hero Mark Spitz in 1972 before those Games – and that feat – were overshadowed by terrorists.

Phelps, understandably, does not want to be drowned by the burden of expectation. "I just get in the water and do what I love to do, and that's compete," he says modestly.

But even Spitz expects his record-breaking tally of seven gold medals – two more than this country has won since the war and two more than the number of golds that Sir Steve Redgrave, Britain's greatest Olympian, won over a 16-year period of dominance – to be surpassed.

"What do I project for Michael Phelps in Beijing?" smiled Spitz as he brushed his moustache. "A success story for all time's sake."

It's a view shared by James Hickman – arguably British swimming's most successful performer – who spent 10 days in 2001 living and training with the mighty Phelps.

At that time, Hickman was the "poster boy" of British swimming – a veteran of two Olympics and the reigning 200 metre butterfly Commonwealth champion. He also excelled in 25 metre pools where he was world champion.

In contrast, Phelps had burst on to the sporting scene at the Sydney Olympics the previous year when, at the age of 15, he became the youngest American competitor for 68 years. Five months later, he fulfilled this promise when he became the youngest man ever to set a world swimming record when he created a new benchmark in the 200m butterfly.

But Hickman never forgets the first morning that he turned up at the American's own pool in Baltimore for the training experience of a lifetime.

"He was so fast from the off that I thought I was going to be lapped!" he recalled. "I knew it wasn't going to be a holiday. There were going to be no easy sessions.

"It was the first warm up. You don't want to look crap. 'S***,' I thought. 'I better get moving'."

The trip had been arranged by Terry Denison, the City of Leeds Swimming Club's coach, who was intrigued to learn more about the Phelps phenomenon.

"Terry was very forward-thinking like that," said Hickman. "But, typically, British Swimming said no. Then they said Terry could go – but not me. Thankfully, City of Leeds paid for me, and it was a real eye-opener. Michael was just so, so enthusiastic. He was 16, I was 25, but it was refreshing. It reminded me of my youth when I just dived in – and tried to swim as fast as I could. When you're 25, the shine has rubbed off a bit and you can see more of the undercoat. He just had the innocence of youth."

The daily routine was planned with metronome-like precision. When the alarm sounded at 5am, the pair would quickly dress and be poolside, performing stretching exercises, half an hour later.

They would then swim various pre-determined distances against the clock for two hours – probably the best part of seven kilometres in total – before returning to the Phelps's modest family home for food and sleep.

The routine would be repeated in the afternoon, the only difference being that the pair would also undertake a punishing gym session to build up their stamina.

If they were training in a 25 metre pool, Hickman knew he had a slight edge on his rival because of his greater experience turning at the end of each length.

If, however, they were swimming in an Olympic-sized 50-metre pool – and in Baltimore, unlike Britain, they had a choice – Phelps's long arm reach gave him the advantage.

"We basically just ate, swam and slept for 10 days," recalled Hickman. "You knew he was really talented. I, obviously, saw him perform at Sydney and thought 'Wow'. But you never know whether competitors that young can go on and fulfil that potential.

"Yes, Michael was ambitious. But there weren't trophies on display all over his house; there was the odd medal hanging from a door but no massive display.

"I like to think that we both benefited from the experience. I got a refreshed experience of why I was in the sport. It gave me a bit of confidence that I could swim – just – as fast as the fastest man in the world. His confidence came
from the fact that he could swim with the Commonwealth champion and someone who had won the World Short Course Championships.

"But there were times, I think, when he deliberately put in some fast lengths because he wanted to show me that he was 'number one'. He could produce it from nowhere – just like he has done winning Olympic gold medals in the final stroke. That marks him out."

As well as witnessing Phelps's prowess at close quarters, Hickman can also speak from personal experience when he raced the American ace in the 100 metres butterfly at the Athens Olympics. Phelps won his heat in 52.35 seconds. Hickman also qualified for the semi-finals from the same race, even though he was just sixth in 52.91 seconds.

But, while Phelps would go on and set an Olympic record in the semi-final – and another when he won the final in the last stroke from his compatriot Ian Crocker – Hickman's time regressed in the semi-final. His age meant that he was swimming against the tide and retirement beckoned.

However, he was sanguine about a disappointing end to an ultimately successful career that he looks back on with pride.

"It all comes down to fractions, but I accept that he was the better swimmer," says Hickman modestly and graciously. "That's the way it goes. Do I have regrets? No. Look, I was a Commonwealth champion. I was the five-time World Short Course champion. And I won seven European titles; 13 golds in total.

"All I know is that I swam to the best of my ability.

"My dream, after watching Bingley's Adrian Moorhouse win Olympic gold in 1988, was to become an Olympic champion in a world record. Yes, I didn't do it. But it made me a better swimmer because I had something to aspire to. Without it, I may not have been so successful. It's the same with Michael. His objective, having won six gold medals in Athens, is to break to Mark Spitz's record. It's there to be beaten.

"Can he do it? Yes. Will he? It's tough. Four of his events are relays where anything can happen; one dodgy change and you're disqualified. Guys like Crocker; they'll be gunning for Phelps. Their target will be to just beat Michael.

"There is a lot that can go wrong. Heats, semi-finals and finals, he may take it easy in a heat, scrape through and find himself out in lanes one or eight for the final rather than in the middle of the pool. It's a huge ask, but if anyone can do it, Michael can."

Far from being envious of Phelps's success, Hickman believes it can only benefit swimming in the longer-term.

As one of the organisers of this year's World Short Course Championships in Manchester, the now 32-year-old was instrumental in swimmers walking out in the MEN Arena to pop music. But he is also adamant that there need to be greater opportunities for young swimmers to progress through the ranks so they
do not become Olympic competitors in spite of
the system.

Having grown up in Stockport, Hickman moved to Leeds to obtain the best coaching. He maintains that many of the happiest days of his life were spent training in the soon-to-be-demolished Olympic pool in the city centre.

And, like Phelps, he had literally fallen into the water – by chance.

A hyper-active child, Hickman's parents sent him to gymnastics and swimming training in the "vain hope", he says, of "burning off some energy".

It was the same with Phelps's mother Debbie. She could barely handle the young Michael, who had been diagnosed, at the age of nine, as suffering from Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, which affects more than four million children in the US.

Swimming – and the discipline of a strict regime that was planned to the minute – provided the salvation for both her and her potentially wayward son.

Previously, Phelps was a "pool rat" – a child who would sneak up behind people poolside and steal their goggles. Mischief was his hallmark until he discovered a special affinity with the water.

Mrs Phelps has also recalled how her son was just another "sullen teenager" until Hickman came to stay chez Phelps – and almost forced the teen prodigy to grow up at mealtimes.

"Michael learned to sit at the dining room table for hours after you eat a meal," she said in a biography of her son.

"You drink tea and eat crumpets, and chat and chat and chat. One night he said in a stage whisper, 'Mom, I can't do this every night'.

"It was enjoyable for me, torture for Michael. He just wanted to go play his video games."

James Hickman smiles as he learns about the legacy of his visit to Baltimore. He will be in Beijing, as an ambassador for swimwear company Speedo, to watch Phelps, 23, attempt to dominate the Olympics like no other competitor.

He also knows that the face of the 2008 Beijing Olympics will not be the sulky, sometimes moody teenager he lived with in 2001 – but a mature, rounded and confident individual.

Phelps won't admit it, but his philosophy is very similar to Mark Spitz's motto of "swimming isn't everything – winning is".

"He's no different to anyone else – he just trains extraordinarily hard and makes the most of that talent. Perhaps the difference between Michael and everyone else is that he does not know when he is beaten," says Hickman.

"I hope he does it. He'll make swimming glamorous. In
Australia, for example, the swimming coach is regarded as being as important as the doctor, dentist or nurse. They appreciate and understand the health benefits of exercise. In America, there are so many more opportunities for youngsters."

Yet, in Britain, swimming is regarded as an afterthought – despite the sport being seen as the healthiest form of exercise.

Medley swimmer Hannah Miley, seen by Hickman as one of GB's leading medal chances, trains in an Inverness pool that, at just four lanes wide, can be choppier than the North Sea. Its temperature, however, can reach a tropical 40C – making the water a breeding ground for bacteria. That is what some of the less fortunate British swimmers are up against.

"If Michael Phelps wins all eight, then it will be front page news in Britain. And then, if he was to date, say, Jennifer Lopez, then everyone will want to take up swimming," adds Hickman.

"Swimming might even become the new football. They might build new pools. And, boy, wouldn't that be just cool?"



RECORDS OF THE GOLDEN BOYS


MARK SPITZ

Name: Mark Andrew Spitz

Date of birth: February 10, 1950

Place of birth: Modesto, California

Height: 6ft 1in

Weight: 79kg

Arm span: 187cm

1972 Olympic gold medals: 200m butterfly, 4 x 100m freestyle relay, 200m freestyle, 100m butterfly, 4 x 200m freestyle relay, 100m freestyle, 4 x 100m medley relay.

World records: 33 (26 individual and seven relay).


MICHAEL PHELPS

Name: Michael Phelps

Date of birth: June 30, 1985

Place of birth: Baltimore, Maryland

Height: 6ft 3in

Weight: 88kg

Arm span: 200cm

2008 Olympic schedule: 200m freestyle, 100m butterfly, 200m butterfly, 200 metre individual medley, 400m individual medley,
4 x 100m freestyle relay, 4 x 200m freestyle relay, 4 x 100m medley relay.

World records: 25 to date (22 individual and three relay).