SWIMMING: In the swimming pool, Olympic history is fluid and restless. On the first real night of high drama on the carpeted deck, Michael Phelps' bid to enter the Spitzonian museum of immortality was blown away by the South Africans in the 4x100 metres freestyle relay.

Nathalie Coughlan, the golden girl of American waters, set an Olympic record in the 100 metres backstroke. Time caught up with Inge de Bruin, the graceful Dutch star who set a world and Olympic record in the 100 metres butterfly on a magical night in Sydney four years ago. On what was surely a valedictory appearance, the 31-year-old relinquished her gold standard in the last metres, losing to youth and Australia in the form of Petria Thomas.

The long-awaited joust between Ian Thorpe and Phelps also got under way in the semi-finals of the 200 metres freestyle. The two fastest swimmers on earth, Thorpe in his trademark, panther-black body suit and the tall, planed figure of the American boy in the lane beside him. It was the most hyped spectacle of these games. The water fizzed as they cut through it but never boiled over. Thorpe won comfortably: they do it for real tonight.

All these changes in little over an hour, but as the sky turned a bruised purple after a day of broiling heat, none of these phenomena were the cause of chatter around the pool deck. For all its technical supremacy and beauty, swimming is at its best when it goes political. And it was no surprise that the Americans were at the heart of the latest international incident.

The cause of the scandal was the men's 100 metres breaststroke. On Saturday, American Brendan Hanson claimed an Olympic record to pair with the world best time he set in Long Beach in July. Going into last night's final, a gold medal was considered Hanson's birthright. But in lane four, Japan's Kosuke Kitajima had other ideas.

From the dive, the Japanese swimmer took off as if harnessed to a shark's fin. The buoyed up Yankee crowd were audibly shocked but recovered their voice as their boy rallied. It was a classic race, the best of the evening, but the American could not make up the tiny fraction of time he lost at the beginning. World record or not, he finished with silver.

Blond and photogenic, Hanson managed a smile as he left the pool deck, still attracting more camera bulbs than the smaller and sombre looking Kitajima. But behind the curtains, the swimmers were in uproar.

Three races later, Aaron Peirsol, a friend and team-mate of Hanson's and heir apparent in the 100 metres breaststroke, cruised through his semi-finals. When he hit the media zone, he was not interested in talking about his race, only Hanson's. Watching Hanson's final from the warm-up pool, Peirsol was convinced he saw the Japanese swimmer execute an illegal butterfly kick to propel him out front at the beginning.

"It's his medal," he said of Hanson. "It's not Kosuke's medal. I am not a judge. The whole stadium saw what happened. There was a dolphin kick at the start and two-tenths of a second was the result. That is Brandon's gold medal and there is nothing we can do about it. It breaks your heart, man. He (Kitajima) knew what he was doing. It's cheating. It's cheating. And he has got a history of that.

"You are not allowed do that, but the judges couldn't see underwater. And Brandon paid the price for it. I was sitting watching it with (Ian) Crocker in the warm-up pool and we couldn't believe it, man. We couldn't even speak. He knows. He knows. He did that last summer too."

Ten minutes later, Kitajima found himself in a brightly-lit interview room. It was hard not to feel sorry for the Japanese man as he sat calmly through a storm of American excitement and innuendo. One can only assume he spends his spare time watching the political masters of that country. Like Nixon, like Clinton, like Bush, he met all responses with the great line in evasion.

"I remember nothing of the race," he said through his translator, "except how good it felt to win it."

Beside him, Hanson offered an ironic smile. In fairness to the American, he did his best to balance the angry tone set by Peirsol but stopped short of declaring all was fair in love and water.

"I actually remember every part of the race. I don't know anything about an appeal and I don't want to have to deal with it. I remember diving in and he took off. I could see him out of my peripheral vision and I tried to keep with him. And that is a rookie mistake. But I left everything in the pool regardless and I am just glad to have someone that good to race against. I have the 200 breaststroke in two days to move on to and actions speak louder than words, I guess."

And how. Within minutes, a chorus of nationalistic cheers rang out in the balmy evening as the macho event of the night, the men's 4x100 metres relay, final began. Once again, swimming proved fickle to yesterday's masters.

The Australians, indomitable in Sydney, were back with their darling three of Thorpe, Todd Pearson and Michael Klim and Eamon Sullivan as the new link. Phelps and Crocker led the American charge. Another gold for Phelps would leave it all hinging on the delicious prospect of a showdown with Thorpe in the 200 metres freestyle final.

Amid the roars and bellows, the plan fell apart. South Africa stunned the audience, and their time of 3.13.17 was a world record. The recriminations began.

Word was that Crocker, the American anchor, had been ravaged with a sore throat. He started the race anyway while Gary Hall jnr, eight-time Olympic medal winner and America's most successful anchor, sat watching in shorts and deckshoes. The internal inquiry began straight away.

"That was the fastest team we had," shrugged Phelps before gangling off into the night. The Australians gathered around the deck, dazed and confused. In no time, the water was still and azure and gorgeous. After all is said and done, that is what the Japanese swimmer will remember best.