No flinching for Olympics minister

By SELWYN PARKER

Only 157 days to go to the Olympics and the problems get bigger by the day. Is this the toughest management job in the world?

The man in the hotseat is Michael Knight, Australia's Minister for the Olympics, and he has just read the morning newspapers. They are not exactly helpful.

A star athlete has complained that the torch relay denigrates Australia's sporting greats because they aren't all able, for organisational reasons, to bear the flame through their home towns. And the Canoeing Federation is furious because rogue weeds choked lanes in the $A70 million ($84.3 million) Olympic course during trials, hampering the paddlers.

The news would get worse.

Aboriginal activist Charlie Perkins warned of civil disruption in an interview with the BBC: "It is now going to be violent, and we're telling all the British people, 'If you want to see burning cars and burning buildings, then come over'."

And to cap the week, the Construction, Forestry, Mining and Energy Union threatened mass strikes if its members were forced to take holidays during Olympic fortnight, presumably because big construction projects would shut to minimise disruption.

The Olympics seems to be a lightning rod for complainants, but Mr Knight takes it all in his stride. Although dark rings around his eyes show he does not get a lot of sleep, he is friendly and open about the monumental task of running these games.

The minister took over at a bad time. Preparation was behind schedule, the management structure unwieldy and he was worried.

At his offices on the 37th floor of a tower overlooking Sydney Harbour, he shows me a pre-1995 document outlining the Olympic planning structure. It looks like the family tree of the Windsors going back to the Wars of the Roses. Including the cabinet's Olympic committee, there are 15 separate authorities, all of which were supposed to be working well with one another but apparently were not.

"I was anxious about what had to be done. I'm a politician, but I had to become a businessman."

Overnight, Mr Knight slashed the 15 bodies to three - the cabinet, Minister for the Olympics and the Olympic Coordination Authority, which he heads.

He had already learned a lot from Atlanta. For the 1996 Olympics, the organising committee took responsibility primarily for "what happens inside the fence" and shovelled "what happens outside the fence" to the city to manage. Unfortunately, that included entertainment, transport, deliveries, security, street-vending and a host of other issues that would come to blight the games. Transport, in particular. Atlanta was virtually gridlocked.

For Sydney, it's the big picture.

"We're running what's inside and outside the fence," Mr Knight says firmly.

Australia's fact-finding team in Atlanta also learned how important it is to give people what they need to get a job done, especially the power.

"If you want a problem solved in the Olympics, make sure you give power with the authority," says Mr Knight.

That is why he set up the one-off Olympic Road and Transport Authority to do all it can with the Games' single biggest headache.

The authority will take over the ferries, trains, buses and everything else involved in moving people from A to B. It is backed by special laws which will end after the Games, when the authority itself will self-destruct.

Sydney's finest have got the other nightmare job.

"We've given ultimate authority for security to the NSW Police Commissioner," explains Mr Knight. "They've got the resources."

In politics, which thrives on fudging issues, this is unusual. But it also has the political advantage of knowing whom to blame.

A towering figure, Mr Knight has a considerable presence and believes in using it when necessary.

"I hope the Bible is right when it says that the meek shall inherit the Earth," he says with a grin.

"But the meek will never run the Olympic Games."

As he explains it, managing the Olympics requires a judicious mix of head-banging and sweet-talking. "You can't be totally in conflict but you can't be totally submissive either."

This remark applies to all the organisations reporting to him, but probably also to the International Olympic Committee.

He says he gets on fine with Juan Samaranch, the IOC's enigmatic president, and other IOC bigwigs.

"You have to remember that they know probably more than anybody else about running the Olympics," Mr Knight acknowledges. "And they also own the franchise."

Profits aren't the name of the game for the minister - "break even will do."

Although the spectre of Montreal, which has only just paid off its 1976 Olympic debts, has haunted every host city since, Australia is looking for long-term gain. And, of course, the $A3.3 billion building programme has delivered facilities the city would not otherwise have got.

"The Olympics are the most amazing tourism showcase imaginable," says Mr Knight, pointing out that visitor numbers have risen steadily in Barcelona since it hosted the 1992 games.

But the long-term gain crucially depends on how well the minister's team does this impossible job.

"It's like playing cyberchess in hyperspace," he says. That is because of the multiplicity of organisations involved.

For example, there are over 200 international sporting federations with umpteen officials. They all play crucial roles because it is them, and not the games organisers, who run the events and make rulings on contentious issues that affect the Olympics, like the row over Australia's "sharkskin" swimsuits.

Although this is a hot potato for the world swimming authority, Fina, it also looks like Australia is stacking the odds in their swimmers' favour.

Much of the protocol is laid down by the IOC, even to how Mr Samaranch is introduced at the opening ceremony.

Will it be all right on the night? It does not matter how many dummy runs Sydney organises, like this month's marathon and triathlon, to stress-test the systems for road closures, transport, parking and other complications, nobody will know for sure until the gun goes off.

As Mr Knight drily observes: "There's never been a battle plan that has survived engagement with the enemy. We know we can cope with a million people in the city as we did on New Year's Eve, but can we handle a million for 17 days?"

* Selwyn Parker is available at wordz@xtra.co.nz