In the swimming pool in Athens last night, the Olympics had its race of races. For months beforehand, Thorpe versus Phelps was labelled as the glamour event of these Games, writes Keith Duggan in Athens
The 200-metre freestyle final was about Australia against America, past against future. It was an event unrivalled in glamour and appeal. And in the end it was man against boy.
Ian Thorpe, the sleek and dignified Australian and the world record holder in this event, was seeking to consolidate his reputation as the greatest-ever swimmer at this event.
Michael Phelps, the American, was chasing a brasher version of history, hoping to grab gold here and heighten the clamour that has followed his bid to eclipse Mark Spitz's untouchable haul of seven golds at the one Olympics.
Some reckoned choosing to include this event was classic Greek hubris. Phelps, though, felt he could not turn down the temptation of racing Thorpe.
And so the two men who are carving up all the old swimming records hit the water together; Thorpe in lane five, Phelps in lane three, and the smiling Dutchman, Pieter van den Hoogenband, between them.
Four magical laps later, Thorpe was champion. He emerged from the water, removed the famous yellow cap, smoothed back his hair and smiled for a thousand camera bulbs. Phelps' grand dreams melted in the heat.
Afterwards, as they embraced in the water, Thorpe told the Dutch man: "Well, now we are even. I hope we meet again in Beijing."
As for Spitz's seven golds, Thorpe reckons that record is as safe as pirate treasure resting on the ocean floor. It is too deep and too distant to ever be equalled.