MICHAEL Phelps is remarkably serene, even while those in his orbit spin out of control. Sycophantic American journalists, amorous Chinese volunteers and hordes of random well-wishers gathered breathlessly before the superstar at a sponsors' function on the eve of the opening ceremony, and in moments, the fawning, gawking, probing and gushing reached manic levels.

Phelps, somehow, appears untroubled. As hysteria surrounding his quest for Olympic immortality sweeps the wide-eyed mob, Phelps maintains an even tone and steady demeanour. Repeated questions about fame, endurance and pressure-pressure-pressure deflect from him easily, while the popping of flash bulbs, the scourge of many a celebrity, provokes nothing but a glazed look and an inscrutable smile. Water off a freak's back.

It could well be that Phelps is the one person in this city not completely consumed by the forthcoming meeting. Driven, certainly. But not to the point of delirium. If, as is said, the ability to find tranquillity in a squall is a trait possessed only by the truly great, Phelps already deserves a place in the pantheon of sporting immortals, alongside Tiger Woods and Sir Donald Bradman. And for those unconvinced, a haul of eight gold medals at the Water Cube - his stated aim - should bring them around.

To put Phelps' ambitions for Beijing in perspective, only 14 countries won eight or more gold medals in Athens. For the other 187 nations, it proved a goal too far. A haul of eight golds would also propel him past Mark Spitz's record of seven in a single Olympics, while an overall tally of 14 gold medals - from a mere two Olympics - would eclipse the record of nine, held jointly by Carl Lewis, Paavo Nurmi and Larissa Latynina.

Phelps, then, is a smelting machine away from distorting the world's precious metals market. Just don't expect the 23-year-old to lose himself in the hype of it all.

"You guys are the ones who are bringing it all up," he says when asked, for roughly the 1094th time on the day, whether he was feeling the pressure. "I didn't think about that. There's nothing I can do now. If I look back over the last four years, we did everything we could to prepare ourselves the best way we could for here. Now it's just time to get in the water and race."

Phelps was not always so composed in the white-hot spotlight of the world's media. After his eight-medal - six of them gold - performance on Olympic debut in Athens, the Baltimore-born swimmer's prowess in the pool contrasted sharply with his discomfort in the fishbowl of stardom. A widely publicised conviction for drink-driving in the US brought home the realities of life in the public eye. But with time and a strong support network behind him, he eventually navigated the treacherous passage between anonymity and celebrity.

If Phelps required evidence of his elevating status after Athens, it came when the good folk at Disneyland erected a pool down the famed Main Street, USA, in his honour. Thousands lined the street to watch Mickey, the swimmer. The mouse could please himself, if only for a day.

Not all Phelps' celebrity experiences have been so G-rated. On a recent trip to Canberra to test drive Speedo's LZR Racer, the American swimmer was stalked by several members of the opposite gender, who made it abundantly clear that their interest lay not in the controversial swimsuit, but rather what it concealed. "He is a normal guy in an abnormal situation," said Craig Brommers, Speedo's vice-president of marketing and a close associate of the swimmer.

Even at such a young age, Phelps has done more for his sport than any who have gone before him, Spitz included. In a major coup for swimming in the US, the NBC network broadcast the US team's Olympic selection trials live; an unprecedented move for what is considered a niche sport. NBC also successfully lobbied the Beijing organisers to stage the swimming finals in the daytime so they can be televised in American prime time. "The Phelps effect," Brommers said.

And, so, back to the media scrum, where Phelps is being bombarded with questions about his preparations for Beijing. How does he plan to prepare for a meeting that could rewrite the record books and forever change the expectations of Olympic athletes?

"I will just sit around everyday in my room in the village doing absolutely nothing," he said. "This morning after workout, I went back and watched Planet Earth for half an hour before I came here. I'll probably go back to my room and watch another movie when I go back."

In a city gone mad, Phelps' patch of the athletes' village may be the only sanctuary.