Sportsman of the Year: Michael Phelps

The Bowman-Phelps bond long ago transcended a teacher-student relationship. At the Golden Goggles, as he was accepting his third straight Coach of the Year award, Bowman tried to put into words his feelings for Phelps. When he choked up, he merely patted his heart and it was all he could do to say four words: "Michael, I love you."

Since the Olympics their relationship has taken on another dimension, as they are the only partners in Aquatic Ventures, LLC, which last month took a controlling interest in Meadowbrook and the North Baltimore Aquatic Club. When Bowman left Meadowbrook after the 2004 Athens Olympics to become men's coach at the University of Michigan, Phelps (who had won the first six of his Olympic-record 14 career golds at those Games) followed him, and Ann Arbor remained their training base through Beijing. Afterward, Phelps felt the pull of home, and Bowman followed him back to Baltimore. Meadowbrook is where Bowman will train Phelps for the 2012 Olympics, and they have grand plans for a 78-year-old facility that has a lot of character (a polite way of putting it). "We want to turn it into one of the best places to train in the country," says Phelps. "We want to attract the best swimmers, have the best facilities, the best environment. Bob and I want the best of everything. That's just our personalities."

There is plenty of aesthetic work to be done, but even with a 50-meter outdoor pool that is open from Memorial Day through September, Meadowbrook can't accommodate many new swimmers; there are already 1,000 year-round family memberships and another 500 or so in the summer. When Phelps resumes serious training next month, he will sometimes find himself in a lane next to kids in swim diapers or seniors trying to loosen up arthritic joints. Locally, there has been a lot of speculation about the possibility of Aquatic Ventures' buying a boarded-up ice rink that abuts the property; knock down the rink and the land would offer Meadowbrook enough space to add a couple of new pools. All Phelps will say is that "there are a million ideas right now, and it is going to take a little time to sort everything out."

But turning Meadowbrook into a destination for elite swimmers is only part of Phelps's vision. Increasing participation rates among kids around the country and expanding their access to the water is one of the primary goals of the nascent Michael Phelps Foundation, the seed money for which came from Phelps's donating the $1 million bonus Speedo gave him for winning his record eight golds. At the Golden Goggles the host USA Swimming Foundation played a video that cited drowning as the second-leading cause of accidental death among five- to 14-year-olds in the U.S. Listening intently, Phelps responded with a few violent shakes of his head that could have been roughly translated as, Not on my watch. "Hearing that, it's shocking," he says. "It needs to change. The reason I started swimming was water safety, pure and simple. I have a passion for keeping kids safe. My mission is to teach as many as I can to swim. It's not about chasing medals -- you never know when you're going to be put in a situation that's life or death."

Phelps has long gravitated toward children. Going back to his early high school years he was a regular celebrity guest at the Boys and Girls Club in Aberdeen, Md. "Children know if you're not being real with them, and they respond to Michael because everything he does is from the heart," says Darlene Lilly, who oversees the Aberdeen club. "A few years ago we had an event to honor him, and he seemed so happy after all the cameras and all the adults left because he got to go into the gym with the kids and play basketball, Foosball and all sorts of games for what seemed like hours."

Perhaps because he was regularly hazed by the older swimmers he competed against -- during practice a couple of the bigger boys would toss him from lane to lane like a beach ball -- Phelps has a knack for befriending those who might benefit from a little extra attention. He has long been close to Mason Surhoff, 16, who is autistic and who trains at Meadowbrook to swim the 50 and 100 freestyle and 50 back in the Special Olympics. Phelps invented a game in which Mason wears a Velcro belt that attaches to a rubber resistance cord. While a brawny adult stands on one side of the pool holding the end of the cord, Phelps tows Mason to the opposite side. Then Phelps lets the boy go, and Mason shoots across the top of the water shrieking and flapping his arms wildly. "The look on his face, it's beyond priceless," says Phelps. He has also taught Mason how to spritz water out of a pylon by releasing it from the bottom of the pool.

"It's very juvenile stuff, obviously," says Mason's mom, Polly, with a laugh, "but he loves it. His relationship with Michael is very important to him. He takes a long time to warm up to people, and many have a hard time relating to him. His speech, his actions, they're very different, and a lot of people don't know how to react. Michael could care less about all that. He has such a young spirit, and there is a goofiness about him that is so attractive to kids."

Mason is a savant who long ago memorized large swaths of The Baseball Encyclopedia, including the statistics of his dad, B.J., a former major league leftfielder. Now he is committing to memory Phelps's myriad records. Inspired by Mason, Phelps has taped public-service announcements for and donated money to the advocacy group Pathfinders for Autism. At the height of the post-Beijing hysteria Phelps cleared his schedule to model clothing at a Pathfinders benefit in Baltimore.

Reaching out seems to come naturally to a swimmer noted for his vast wingspan. In late 2004 Phelps made his only public misstep when he ran a stop sign in Salisbury, Md., and was charged with DUI. (He pleaded guilty and was sentenced to 18 months' probation.) He confronted the fallout forthrightly, with public apologies and a heartfelt talk at the Aberdeen Boys and Girls Club about taking responsibility for your actions. Not long after the DUI made news, the first Golden Goggle Awards ceremony was held, and NBC's Ebersol received an award to open the night. He did not have prepared remarks, and when he stepped onstage he locked eyes with Phelps, sitting at a table in the front row. They were only casual acquaintances, yet Ebersol dedicated his speech to the young swimmer. "People were being pretty tough on Michael right then, and I said that the swimming world should be proud of him because of his great character," recalls Ebersol. "Yes, he made a mistake, but he took the heat in the same way hewins big races -- with class, with dignity, without ego."

By the time Ebersol left the dais, Debbie Phelps was crying and Michael, too, was openly emotional.

A couple of weeks later Ebersol and his sons, Charlie and Teddy, were in a private plane that crashed shortly after takeoff in icy conditions. Fourteen-year-old Teddy was killed, along with two crew members. Ebersol broke his back. At Teddy's funeral in Connecticut, Ebersol was startled to see Phelps, who had flown in from Michigan. That was the beginning of a close friendship. "I'm not a crier," says Ebersol, "but every time he won a race in Beijing, I found myself weeping, because when I think of Michael, I think of my son."

The Olympics also had a powerful resonance for the Hansen family, who live in the Baltimore suburb of Timonium and first came in contact with Phelps in the fall of 2002. Stevie Hansen, then seven, was a promising age-group swimmer who was facing surgery to remove a brain tumor. Through Bowman the family asked if Stevie could meet his idol, and the day before the surgery Phelps went to the Hansens' house. He and Stevie shot hoops in the driveway and compared their favorite junk foods. After the operation, while Stevie was recovering in the hospital, Phelps sent balloons and a basket of deliciously unhealthy treats. The next summer Phelps surprised Stevie by showing up at one of his swim meets, and the boy raced across the pool deck to leap into his hero's arms. Phelps later borrowed a suit and swam the anchor leg in a parents-and-coaches relay.

Stevie would occasionally sit on the edge of the Meadowbrook pool watching Phelps practice, and Phelps kept tabs on the boy after he left for Ann Arbor. Stevie continued to swim even as his body was ravaged by more tumors. In April 2007 his health took a dramatic turn for the worse. Phelps rushed back to Maryland but because of a delayed flight didn't arrive at the Hansen home until after midnight. Stevie was so heavily medicated he couldn't be roused, but Phelps stayed for a couple of hours, talking softly to him while the boy slept. "Michael never let go of his hand the whole time," says Stevie's mom, Betsy. "To see this big, strong guy be so tender, it was just incredibly touching." Before he left, Phelps whispered to Stevie that he would win a medal for him in Beijing, and that he would try to make it a gold.

Stevie died a month later. Phelps went to the memorial service and provided a huge bouquet of flowers in purple, Stevie's favorite color.

As the Hansen family gathered in front of the TV for Phelps's first final in Beijing, the 400 individual medley, the promise from a year earlier was on everyone's mind. "That race was so emotional for us," says Betsy of sitting with her husband, Steve, and their 11-year-old daughter, Grace. "Watching Michael swim to the gold, I just cried and cried the whole time. I was so happy for him, but of course it was bittersweet that Stevie wasn't there to help us cheer for him."

Half a world away someone else also thought of Stevie immediately after the 400 IM. "I had promised him I'd win a medal," Phelps says, "and it meant a lot to me to do it for him."

Grace is a swimmer, too, and a good one. During a recent meet she set personal bests in six of her eight events. If Phelps's goal is to inspire the next generation of swimmers, Grace is proof that he's doing a pretty good job of it. "I got into swimming because of Stevie," she says. "Now I'm motivated to be the best I can be because of Michael."

The recent Thanksgiving holiday was the first since 2004 that Phelps got to enjoy with his family, because while in Ann Arbor he was unwilling to interrupt his training to go home. "Last year was the worst," says Hilary. "We called and he had just gotten back from the pool and was eating takeout Chinese all by himself. It broke my heart."

Besides home cooking, Phelps says the best part of returning to Baltimore is having his mom and two older sisters close enough for spontaneous visits. Hilary, who is single, works for an environmental group in Washington; Whitney, who lives with her husband and two children in Rockville, Md., is a recruiter in finance and accounting. The Phelps clan has always been tight-knit and fiercely loyal, but Michael is leaning on them now more than ever, he says, because "they keep things normal."

Since the Olympics his life has been a blur of nonstop business meetings, corporate engagements and media appearances, highlighted by hosting the season premiere of Saturday Night Live on Sept. 13 and being a presenter at the MTV Video Music Awards that same month. Although he is not a natural in front of the camera, Phelps feels he can't say no to too many opportunities. "I do feel an obligation to promote the sport," he says. "It's not even about me. I just think it's cool that a swimmer -- any swimmer -- is hosting SNL."

Though he's used to getting mobbed at swimcentric events such as the Golden Goggles, Phelps has only come to understand the magnitude of his new fame as he has ventured into the wider world over the last few months. "The after-party at the MTV awards was a tent with a thousand people in it," says Phelps's longtime agent, Peter Carlisle. "When Michael walked in, there was this incredible crush. The security people looked a little panicky, and they quickly hustled Michael into the VIP room. There were maybe 100 people in there, and a significant number of them you recognized immediately. Again, same thing -- nonstop autographs and pictures. So the security guys grab Michael again and take him to what I guess was the VVIP area. There's about a dozen people in there, and it's definitely A-list: Paris Hilton, the Jonas brothers, Demi Moore, people like that. When we get in there, it's like, Ah, now we can take a breath. Then the same thing happened again. He's just instantly surrounded, and out come the cameras and pens! Michael just looked at me like, 'Man, can you believe this?' It was pretty surreal."

Phelps remains admirably down to earth, but he is not above occasionally cashing in on his new celebrity. Having burned innumerable hours between training sessions playing online poker, he eagerly accepted an offer from the Maloof brothers, the Las Vegas casino magnates, to host him and two dozen friends for an ultimate guys' weekend shortly after Beijing. Along for the ride was Steve Skeen, a friend since fourth grade who now works in his family's construction business in Baltimore. "The whole VIP treatment, that was something new," says Skeen. Phelps usually brings his trademark intensity to the poker table -- on another visit to Vegas, in October, he finished ninth in a field of 187 contestants -- but accompanied by his entourage he was happy to relax among his admirers, who ranged from cocktail waitresses in Playboy bunny outfits to glistening sunbathers by the pool. "There was definitely more female attention," says Skeen. "Michael is a shy guy in general, but he was having fun with it."

It is a sign of his crossover appeal that Phelps's love life has been chronicled by the mainstream gossip purveyors. In October TMZ.com had a couple of pictures of him squiring a former Miss California USA contestant. Last month PEOPLE (which included him on its recent list of the Sexiest Men Alive) reported that he has been dating a Vegas cocktail waitress, and some racy pictures showing her heavily tattooed torso quickly made the rounds on the Internet. Phelps is embarrassed by this kind of attention, and forcing a laugh at the inevitable follow-up, he says, "I'm single. That's the million-dollar question everyone seems to want answered."

After Phelps won his record eight golds, Carlisle told The Wall Street Journal that the accomplishment would be worth $100 million to Phelps in lifetime endorsements. The deals are already rolling in. In addition to his pre-Olympic contracts with the likes of Speedo, AT&T and Omega, Phelps has signed to endorse Guitar Hero and Subway, among other things.

Phelps is extremely loyal to all of his sponsors, but there's no doubt which endorsement he's most excited about. He recently signed with a French company that will develop a video game starring his likeness. "How cool is that?" Phelps says, sounding like a big kid, which in many ways he still is. "I grew up playing video games, and I can't say I ever thought I'd see one featuring a swimmer." The game is still in the conceptual stage, but, Phelps says, "it's not going to be just boring laps in a pool; there will be a rescue element and some other things people might not expect."

Even as his business portfolio expands, Phelps's only recent splurge has been new rims and a new grill for his 2007 black Range Rover. Bowman bought Phelps's previous Rover at a deep discount, and the coach says, "I had to de-pimp it. I took off the running boards, lightened the tint on the windows and removed that ridiculous sound system. I didn't really need it to listen to NPR."