Big Bad Bill is no sweetie

YOU can hardly miss Bill Sweetenham as he wanders along by the side of the Commonwealth Games swimming pool. It's not just that he is carrying a fair few pounds around the middle; it's also that air of bullish confidence that lingers over him. For a man who has been criticised vociferously over the past few months, he looks supremely unbowed.

Sweetenham's name has cropped up repeatedly in Melbourne, which is curious because he is not here in any official capacity. As the performance director for the whole of British swimming, he is not affiliated to any of the home nations competing here.

He has been obliged to remain at arm's length watching from a distance, offering a word of advice here and there. Yet his presence lurked over the whole event.

Sweetenham's impact on British swimming is a matter of great debate. To his supporters, and in his own mind, he is the man who galvanised huge changes in the sport, brought in new people and new ideas and empowered the best young swimmers. But others berate him as an inflexible tub-thumper who harangues his charges and treats adults like children.

So here's the question: why have Britain's swimmers done so well in Australia? Thirty-eight medals in the pool exceeded most people's expectations, but did all those gongs come because Sweetenham has transformed the team, or because he was not on hand to annoy and distract them? Has he been vindicated by success, or condemned?

The man himself is in very little doubt. When we spoke, he carried his air of confidence like a badge of pride. "This hasn't happened by chance," he said. "We've put a long-term strategy in place, and now we're starting to see the results. There's a group of young swimmers coming through the ranks and, to be honest, we're where I would have expected.

"We have a great team. Britain and the home countries are experiencing a new level of professionalism. These are swimmers who expect to be on the podium. I'm proud of them."

So had it been frustrating for this ball of bullishness to take a back seat? "It's been hard to get the balance - if I get too close to the swimmers, people would say I'm interfering; if I stay too far back, it looks like I don't care." He shrugged and smiled.

But what of all that criticism? Was this a riposte to the accusations of bullying? Sweetenham glanced down for a moment. "If you worried about the critics all the time, then you'd never get anywhere. You have to have the courage of your convictions, and I'm not going to dwell on the past. Small people can bring big people down. The changes have definitely helped British swimming."

In truth, he looks spectacularly untroubled. Sweetenham knows his future - he will stand down after the Beijing Olympics, saying that he misses his family and wants to go back to Australia. The rumours already have him pencilled in as head coach of the Aussie team, even if they do have to wait a couple of years to get him.

In fact, things look reasonably cheery for Sweetenham, except for that nagging echo of discontent. Talk to swimmers when they are out of range of a microphone, and some still paint a fearsome picture of his unrelenting drive.

It's not simply that he is determined, but his critics consider him obsessive. They talk of a man who sets targets that are palpably unattainable, of a man who wilfully upsets his charges. They cannot criticise him openly for fear of reprisal.

On the other hand, Mark Foster can say pretty much what he wants. For two decades, he has been an integral part of British swimming, but at the age of 35, and having achieved eight gold medals, these Games are his last multi-sport event.

"In some ways, Bill's done a good job," he said, and you knew what the next word would be. "But there are plenty of things he does that I wouldn't agree with. He wants to treat every swimmer the same, and I can't agree with that.

"You wouldn't get sprinters and long-distance athletes doing the same training programme, but that's what he wants to do. We're all individual athletes, but you can't explain to him that it doesn't work. Bill has a problem with man-management. He's not a good communicator."

It should be pointed out that Foster has a vested interest. He has distanced himself from Sweetenham's coaching for a while, and was despondent when not selected for the Athens Olympics two years ago, not least because he had gained silver in the world championships a year previously.

Foster said that was the biggest disappointment of his career, a setback that he claimed "bemused" the swimmers that he would have faced in Athens. "I thought that was my best opportunity to win an Olympic title. I might have won, I might have come second, who knows? But I should have been there. I should have had the chance."

So if Sweetenham is a problem, how come Britain's swimmers have done so well here? "We've done great, and that's encouraging, but you can only judge performances at an Olympics," he said with a smile.

All right, so does he think the swimmers benefited from not having to deal with Sweetenham on an hourly basis? Big smile: "I think that's probably true."

It would be fair to say that Sweetenham and Foster are not close friends. They come from different ends of the spectrum, for Sweetenham likes his swimmers to spend hours going up and down the pool, while Foster prefers to mix swimming with gym work and mental preparation.

Yet both prize success above all.

In truth, the Commonwealth Games may have given British swimming a template. There is no doubt that Sweetenham has made the sport more focused and professional, yet many agree that the athletes prospered here because he was not peering over their shoulders when they were preparing.

Yet it's a template that may be rather difficult to adopt, for it would involve Sweetenham consciously taking a step back into the shadows at crucial moments. And while he has done many things in his time, Big Bad Bill has rarely shied away from confrontation.