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I don't think it's too much of an exaggeration to say I grew up with .

Not literally, of course, but it would be fair to say the man who owned nearly half of Summer Bay's going concerns was a tremendous influence on me.

His cut-to-the-chase straight-talking, his old codger shell hiding a sweetly sentimental centre, his raging against an incomprehensible world, his very essence...he spoke to me as a youngster.

I heard that voice again on Tuesday and it was coming from the mouth of Australian swimming coach Alan Thompson.

There were moments during Tuesday's Aussie swimming press conference when I could have sworn "Thommo" was aching to call somebody a "" or cry "strike my living harry" at the sheer wrongness of it all.

The IOC nearly got it for selling out to US TV over swim finals in the mornings, the media almost wore it for hyping the , the Chinese could have copped it for letting some of Beijing's totally fine really air into the Water Cube during Monday's "blue sky day" white-out.

It was a virtuoso performance from my new favourite head coach and, if you allow me to walk the tightrope of national stereotypes for a while, served as perfect reference point for three very different press conferences.

The first up was Team GB's thoroughly OK effort at the .

The US Acuvue-to-Zyrtec giant is one of Beijing 2008's sponsors or partners or suppliers (I forget which), which means we all got free shampoo in our rooms and it gets to set up a fancy showroom on the Olympic Green.

J&J's is actually quite good. It reminded me of a classy Ibizan nightclub but with British Olympic Association chairman Lord Colin Moynihan, Team GB chef de mission (it doesn't mean team cook) Simon Clegg and British Cycling mastermind Dave Brailsford standing in for all the beautiful Mediterranean people.

Anyway, the three of them burbled on politely for a bit before the fairly sparse British press pack asked them a few gentle questions about parochial British concerns.

We then packed up for soft drinks, cakes and "one-on-ones" (something our press seem to treasure far more than any other country's).

Brailsford was the pick of the bunch but he was holding all the best cards. He runs one of the most exciting teams here and has plenty to say (Pollution? It's the same for everybody.

The venues? First rate, let's start racing. Pressure? We're just racing the clock. And so on and so on).

So where was everybody? Had the BOA told the rest of the world's media that here was a chance to quiz the man whose team won half the gold medals available at the world championships in March?

Perhaps they knew the British hacks would bang on about which acronym actually runs Olympic sport in the UK and why the rest of the world wasn't as saintly about doping as us.

So they went to the Aussie Q&A instead and, having just sneaked into the back of the press centre's biggest auditorium, I don't blame them.

Thompson sat in the middle, flanked by six world record-holders: Stephanie Rice, Eamon Sullivan and Libby Trickett on one side, Grant Hackett, Leisel Jones and Jessica Schipper on t'other.

And what a picture they were with their canary yellow, sorry, Australian gold tops and big, healthy grins.

Not that I had a particularly good view, stuck as I was behind the 24 TV cameras across the middle of the room.

Why were they all there?

It's simple really, the Aussie swim team are box office. They're like the US track team, Federer and Nadal, the Brazilian football side or whoever the cutest beach volleyball pairing currently is. They're rock stars, they're money, they're gold.

They also give very good quotes.

told us "anybody with a lane in semi has a medal chance", Grant Hackett said he'd be "going to the well again and digging as deep as possible", explained "everybody is looking for a better hold on the water", before Thompson concluded "we're in for a pretty big meet".

Of course, that wasn't the only thing Thommo said.

He slammed Jacques Rogge and co for "lacking loyalty" to sport's traditions and letting $1bn "talk too loudly" when it came to moving the finals to the mornings (so America could watch them live).

He sounded off about the "haze" in the ("I asked a few questions about it, but didn't get an answer") and congratulated Speedo's marketing department for making us think it is the suit breaking all those records, not the world's best swimmers.

But it wasn't all Aussie aphorisms and Alf Stewart cussedness, there was light relief and romance too.

Jones told a story about watching a Discovery Channel doc on the making of the Cube, Trickett confirmed she was studying journalism and had been taking pics of us and Sullivan looked like the cat that got the cream when he said he and former girlfriend Rice were "just good friends". Friends with privileges, I'd say.

But most of all there was just a general vibe of confidence and determination. They also weren't afraid to speak a few home truths about sport coming second to money or pollution.

It was a rollicking good show and I was really missing the Aussie swimmers an hour later when the US women's volleyball team press conference started in the same room.

I expected it to be a tad boring, far too serious and way too long, and I wasn't pleasantly surprised.

It was even more cagily diplomatic than the British conference, and some of the (very dull) questions from the floor lasted longer than the answers.

The big scoop, and the only thing anybody cared about at all, was the fact the US coach, , is a Chinese volleyball legend.

Known as the "Iron Hammer" during her playing career, Lang played on China's gold medal team in 1984 and then coached them to silver in 1996. She is, according to US volleyball "libero" Nicole Davis, as big in China as Michael Jordan is in the US.

Poor old Davis, in fact, was only called upon to confirm just how great Lang is and her team-mate Danielle Scott was almost completely ignored as she didn't seem to be quite so forthcoming with Lang anecdotes.

The one mildly interesting thing to come out of the whole event was Lang admitting she needs "GPS" when she comes back to Beijing. The city's cab drivers should take note; they have no idea where they're going either.

The Americans (who have a decent team, apparently, not that anybody asked) were completely upstaged by their Chinese coach. A sign of things to come?

So the Yanks were po-faced and looking dangerously like becoming second-class citizens here, the British were polite but ignored, and the Australians were just themselves.

Strike me pink, Alf would be proud of them.