Under-fire Americans must hide brash side

Rather, they have been pilloried, saddled mischievously by some wags here with the nickname of Team Balco after the now-infamous Californian company at the heart of the sport's great drugs scandal. The United States Olympic Committee must secretly be dreading the circus that may engulf Marion Jones, their most famous current Olympian, once she arrives here to compete while still under investigation by the US Anti-Doping Agency.

Darryl Seibel, the head of the massive USOC media operation, admits that the problems engulfing their athletics team have helped cloud perceptions about the overall squad, which he says is determined to "achieve with humility". The vast majority of them always have.

Still, though, we remember the appalling muscle-flexing preening of the aforementioned Williams, Maurice Greene and their sprint relay colleagues after they won the gold in Sydney. "That is an example of improper and egregious error. We are determined not to let that happen again," USOC chief executive Jim Scherr vowed here yesterday.

How? By major efforts to educate their 530 athletes and officials in how they ought to behave here. USOC have indeed done their utmost to ensure that, even if their team may always be destined to be the one the others love to hate, they will know not to indulge in the displays of perceived arrogance that could inflame anti-American sentiment simmering around Europe.

When they arrive here, every one of their athletes, whether it be a Dream Team basketball superstar or an anonymous rower, receives a 90-minute briefing about the importance of humility in their conduct. Olympic legends such as Bob Beamon, the long jump champion from the Mexico City Games of 1968, have been drafted in to sell the charm offensive to them.

"I'm not sure you'd call them warnings, but we tell them how we think that they should behave, remembering that we are somebody's guests here," said the US chef de mission, Herman Frazier.

Exuberant celebrations that they might have undertaken in the past as a matter of course, such as draping themselves in the Stars and Stripes on a lap of honour, are now frowned on.

It is made clear to them that they should show decorum, not just for a nation's image, but also to help look after their own safety and security in the current uncertain climate. One of the messages drummed home to Olympians in their briefing, said Seibel, was that they should not walk alone in the Athens streets, but in groups, and that they should not wear team clothing or accreditation tags that would identify them as Americans.

Effectively, they are being bombarded with the same sort of advice that other Americans working for US companies here during the Games have been given by security consultants, ranging apparently from "Don't wear baseball caps" to "Don't be loud and obnoxious".

For some, you suspect, the latter demand really could be hard work. Take dear old Maurice Greene. Yesterday, he was to be found apologising once again for his over-the-top antics in Sydney, explaining: "You don't know what a person is going to do when they win a gold. Nothing is planned. You're going off emotion."

Indeed, the 100m champ is so contrite that, after telling us why he was greater than Jim Hines or Carl Lewis, he then unveiled an ostentatious pair of red, white and blue starspangled running spikes, carrying "MO" written in gold.

Yes, nice to see the message is getting through to the world's fastest man.