Advance Australia Fair played and I felt like a fraud. Ian Thorpe had beaten me by 0.26 seconds to defend his 400-metre freestyle gold in Athens.
The anthem rung out across the pool deck. And while I stood on the dais and sang the words aloud, I knew they weren’t for me. Ian Thorpe and Grant Hackett after winning gold and silver in the 400m freestyle at Athens 2004.
Credit: Craig Golding We have talked a lot about gold medals in the lead-up to the Paris Olympics - and given the strength and depth of this Australian team, why wouldn’t we? - but not everyone will realise their dream over the next week. Sam Short and Elijah Winnington can’t both win the 400 metres freestyle (and will most likely need to set a new world record to overcome Germany’s Lukas Martens), despite the pair being world champions in the event. And one of Mollie O’Callaghan and Ariarne Titmus, both of whom have held the world record, will not occupy the top place on the dais after the 200 metres freestyle.
It has only been in recent years that I’ve been comfortable discussing the impact my silver medals have had on me. Before then, I had well-rehearsed, ready-made answers to anyone who asked me about my Olympic experiences. “They were great!” “I was pumped!” “Winning in front of my home crowd was a dream!” There is some truth in those responses, but only some.
The complete and transparent answer is that, while there is pride in the races I won, I have spent more time over the years th.