First, the bad news. The world was deprived of its daily dose of Michael Phelps here today - his Olympics now done, the phenomenon has safely cocooned himself in history and a world of corporate glad handing.

So to the good news. Usain Bolt is still with us, making us smile, making us gasp and making us wonder.

There was not a spare seat out of 91,000 in the Bird's Nest to watch a morning session in which Bolt was only ever going to trot around his 200 metres heat like Joe Jogger - but who cared? They'd come to watch an instant legend at work.

Actually, make that a legend at play. For the human-turned-cheetah mugged, gurned and pouted for the cameras, shaded his eyes with two fingers to indicate that he's going for the sprint double last achieved by Carl Lewis 24 years ago and then broke into the biggest, daftest grin which could only persuade you to laugh with him. God help his rivals if he ever learns to relax!

Then he started to run. Cue more laughter. Immediately outside him was a lad from Nicaragua, blown away in about three of those giant strides; in the next lane, a useful Trinidadian Rondell Sorillo, who seemed to need two paces of real exertion to match every one of Bolt's effortless loping gait and was generously gifted the heat victory by the 100m king, 20.58sec to 20.64sec.

So what a story Sorillo will be able to tell his grandkids; the day he beat THE man. It almost doesn't seem fair that it has to take one bloke 17 races ploughing up and down a pool, eight golds over nine days and fatigue to the point of exhaustion to cement his legend while it takes another under 10 magical seconds to do the same.

Yet Bolt's 100 metres was something so off the scale in terms of brilliance, the most astounding action I've ever witnessed in covering more than two decades of track championships, that you could understand former 100m champ Donovan Bailey declaring here: "Michael Phelps might be the star of these Games but Bolt is the king of these Games."

It is preposterous, really, but Olympic organisers are clearly loving the idea that there should now be a pointless argument about who's the real icon of this Games.

The black lad with the preposterously long legs or the white lad with the unnaturally long arms? The one who's incomparably fast in the water or the one who's unprecedentedly quick on land? The swimmer described by his coach as a workaholic or the sprinter described by his coach as "er, not fond of hard work"?

Of course, all comparisons are invidious. The only point to be made about both of them is that they could be critical forces for rejuvenation within their sports.

Phelps admitted today that his ambition was to make swimming the focus of attention every year instead of once every four years, while the difference with Bolt is that he's still too young and fresh at 21 to understand just what an impact he could have on a sport dogged by scandal, hamstrung by public scepticism and so short on star quality for far too long.

"His exuberance and talent shines out," said Bailey. "There is no-one I would have wanted more than him to have my Olympic record, he has the ability to recreate the sport and to be the biggest track and field athlete ever."

The great thing about Bolt is that he doesn't quite realise it himself yet. When I met him at Crystal Palace the other week, he was shy, respectful and wary but only really opened up when it came to talking and laughing about the things he really enjoys; like his Jamaican dancing and his love of cricket.

I teased this very useful fast bowler - according to his coach Glen Mills - about his professed admiration of Matthew Hayden, Australia's swaggering opener, wondering what it was that attracted him to flat-track bullies.

"Oh, but I like Freddie Flintoff too," he enthused. "I like sportsmen who are aggressive out there, who are showmen."

Athletes like himself in other words. I'd wager any amount that we'll never again see a 100m winner able to showboat as he did eight strides from the line.

He is your original athletic superman; a mild-mannered, laid back kid who presumably finds a telephone booth somewhere near the call room in the bowels of the stadium and then metamorphoses into giant who revels, without any self-consciousness, in his own unreal talent.

And he carries the aura of greatness with him too. Britain's Christian Malcolm (20.42sec) and Marlon Devonish (20.49sec), two of the top four qualifiers for the second round of the 200m, know it will be a privilege just to race against him.

For remember, it's not the 100m but the half-lap which Bolt says is "closest to my heart" and the only question really is whether in Wednesday's final he can eclipse Michael Johnson's record of 19.32sec, the 12-year-old mark which had been tipped to be Beamonesque in its longevity.

As MJ himself put it cheekily about Phelps: "Michael who?"