Crocker Is the Maine Man

Ian Crocker, a 21-year-old from Portland, Maine, broke his own world record at Olympic trials in Long Beach, Calif. Michael Phelps was second. (Jonathan Newton -- The Washington Post)

So began a love affair that ended with Crocker's parents finally buying the car for him after the 2000 Olympics, in which he won a gold medal as a member of the world record-setting medley relay team. They had it shipped to Austin, where Crocker was a freshman at Texas, dealing with studies and swimming and dorm life. 'Berta became another prescribed distraction, a friend he could jump into and drive on the open Texas highways, tunes and all. A hundred miles one way, turn around, a hundred miles back. Aaaaah.

"Cars, music, they're things I love, things I enjoy, things that I like to put my time into," Crocker said. "I love swimming. I swim for the experience and the show. But it can't be the only thing in my life."

There were more reasons to pursue balance. Even as he rose to swimming prominence, he harbored deep-seeded doubts that might have held him back. Introverted, he used music to make friends. If swimming became his whole life, there was the potential for disappointment, for isolation.

"In Long Beach [at the trials], you see people's dreams crushed," Gail Crocker said. "If that's all you have, if your ego and goals are in just one area, what happens next? To understand one's being and purpose in life as being able to use your God-given talents to the best, and then to know that whatever happens with your talents, you're on a journey -- and that journey's more valuable than any one activity."

The origins of that philosophy came to Crocker early. His mother remembers him calling her into his room, just when he was headed to bed, and they'd talk for an hour. "He would want to talk about why there was money in the world," Gail Crocker said. "He would have these thoughts about, 'If we got rid of all the money in the world, and everyone was just equal, there wouldn't be any problems.' "

His family is non-denominational Christian, though Crocker attended a Catholic high school for boys, where he took mandatory religion classes. When he arrived at Texas, he continued to think about religion, and became involved -- at the behest of fellow Olympian Josh Davis -- in Athletes in Action, a Christian group. Now, his faith is incorporated in his swimming, yet one doesn't dominate the other.

"God helps me bring out something that I don't know is in me," Crocker said.

Crocker wraps all this renaissance man stuff up in a nice, friendly package, complete with a soft smile across a soft face. A friend once told him, he said, "If you were any more laid-back, you'd be dead." It is only partially true.

"Don't be fooled," said U.S. men's coach Eddie Reese, who also coached Crocker at Texas. "He's like a hunting dog. He's just a lapdog -- until you shoot a bird. Then, watch out. That's Ian."

In Athens, Crocker will also swim the 100 freestyle and two relays. And in that 100 butterfly, he will race Phelps in what should be one of the Games's best matchups. When Crocker climbs onto the starting block at the Olympics -- be it against Phelps or someone else -- he will look composed, calm. But watch him just before the start, and you'll notice his leg bounce, up and down, up and down again. There, behind the laid-back facade -- not to mention behind all his other pursuits -- is the competitiveness that could bring him gold, Phelps or not.

"There's something about racing that just brings out a thrill," Crocker said. "It is like Eddie's metaphor. It's like a hunt. It just brings out something that's a lot deeper and doesn't get seen very much."