The tall man who arrives bang on time for the Men’s Health photo shoot is unmistakably Ian Thorpe: recently 40, he’s changed little since his days of gliding up and down the pools of the world as though born to the water. There is something different about him today, however, apart from the beard. It might be a hint of nervousness he seldom betrayed at his competitive peak.
Since his mid-teens, he’s been snapped a million times. Yet today he seems faintly ill at ease in front of the lens and wants no part of appraising the images that appear on the monitor. Perhaps he’s a touch insecure; perhaps he doesn’t care enough to fuss; or perhaps he wants simply to get on with things. Regardless, he’s cordial and professional, prepared to strike poses but nothing extravagant; prepared to smile but only occasionally.
It’s later, while talking, while looking back on his life and especially his swimming days, that Thorpe comes to life. For all its associated pressures and controversies, he reflects on that heady time with a palpable fondness. And surely with pride, as well, for what a time it was. What a magnificent, glorious show Thorpe put on for the rest of us.
Let’s start with the numbers game. At the 2000 and 2004 Olympics combined, Thorpe won five gold medals across four events, the equal-most by any Australian in history (that tally having been matched in Tokyo last year by Emma McKeon). Between 1998 and 2004, he claimed a further 11 gold medals at world championships. World records? He set some 23 of those.
But Thorpe - the Thorpedo - was so much more than an amasser of prizes. In his prime - which began when he was a floppy-haired 15-year-old from Sydney’s southern suburbs - he exuded the quality of invincibility reserved for the chosen few. To see him on the blocks was to know he would win. In his pet event, the 400m freestyle, he beat all-comers for six years at every big meet, swimming in a way best summed up by fellow Olympic champion Duncan Armstrong: “He caresses the water, but when it’s time to be brutal he’s like a raging bull”.
For me, the race that defined Thorpe was not an individual event but a relay the 4x100m freestyle on the first night of Sydney 2000. You know what happened, right? On the last lap, Thorpe, a middle-distance specialist, trailed the American hotshot Gary Hall Jr, a pure and lethal sprinter, yet overhauled him to win by a hand-length. It shouldn’t have been possible. Shouldn’t have happened. But that was Thorpe.
What made him so great? Supreme technical efficiency? Enviable physical strength? Cartoonish elasticity? A long frame and colossal feet? An iron will? Nerves of steel? All those things applied. But athletically speaking,
