Rowing entrusts its tomorrows to the alchemist of the golden pond

The Tim Foster interview: Teaching is now the mission for the master technician of Sydney's famous four

The morning after the announcement of his retirement, Tim Foster did something quite uncharacteristically immodest. He went and bought all the newspapers. At some point, maybe a decade from now, he will cut out the sporting obituaries and paste them into his scrapbook. His mother certainly will. Foster was just astounded that so many people noticed. After all, he was just an extra in the boat which swept Steve Redgrave to his knighthood, the long-haired one who smiled a lot and played dodgy music.

The Olympics finished 15 months ago, but the legacy of that day has lingered in the nation's subconscious. Foster won bronze in Atlanta and has been a driving force in British rowing for the last decade, but his face will forever be bathed in the sunshine of Penrith Lake. "I am Tim Foster of Sydney," he says. Recently, he drove one of his University of London crews down to Wales. Having an appointment in Hereford the following day, he stayed the night at a small hotel in Abergavenny. When Foster came to pay, the owner refused to take his money.

"I didn't think I'd ever be famous in Abergavenny," he laughs. "I went to Hampton School the other night to speak to pupils, parents and staff and you could still feel the level of excitement. People can remember exactly what they were doing that night. They apologise for disturbing you, then tell you how proud they were to be British. I should be thanking them for their support."

Foster is not about to trot happily off into the sunset, clutching his gold medal. Retirement was more a necessity than an option. His 14st body, never as robust as his mind, has grown tired of rowing with beasts, stretching those extra inches on every stroke to compensate for his lack of height, giving away weight to every other member of the crew. If his back does not hurt, his knee does and a frustrating final season nursing one or the other has finally persuaded him that Athens 2004 is a step too far. Some days, climbing the stairs is an achievement.

It was widely reported that Foster's back required extensive treatment on the morning of the Olympic final; rather less publicised was the fact that an inflamed tendon in his right knee also threatened his place in history. Two years before Sydney, he could not bend down to dress himself after an operation to remove a disc in his back. From that moment, he was living on borrowed time. The surgeon said cheerfully that one more injury could leave him crippled for life. "My body is older than I am," he says. To make matters worse, while he was pottering about in a single scull, wondering about his future, Matthew Pinsent and James Cracknell were disappearing into the distance in pursuit of another certain gold medal. As Foster stood still, rowing moved on. "I didn't want to become one of those guys who is trying to recreate something that once was," he says.

If you look for signs of sadness, regret or anger that the price for gold has been paid so painfully at the relatively premature age of 31, none are visible. Foster does not deal in such destructive emotions. One door closes, another opens. Last Monday, he started a new job as an apprentice coach with Britain's élite rowing squad. On his second morning, he was assigned a couple of no-hopers on the familiar waters of the Thames at Henley. "It was strange," he recalls. "One minute I was rowing with Matt and James, the next I'm coaching them. The even stranger thing was that they listened to what I said." Or pretended to. Even in the Redgrave four, Foster was the technical guru, the one who translated the lessons of the stopwatch into the language of the purist. Redgrave, Pinsent and Cracknell provided the power; Foster was the transmission.

"I think that stems from the way I've been brought up in rowing," he reflects. "When I was a junior based in Bedford, I had to learn a lot of things for myself. What makes a boat go fast? Why are we doing it this way? That's what I bought to the four. I could feel what James was doing two seats away from me and, after some sessions, I would talk as much as Jürgen [Grobler, head coach of the British men's squad]. I had a feel for the boat when I was in it. The interesting thing now will be to see if I can have the same feel outside it."

Most would be happy to bet on it. Foster can bring a wealth of experience to his new role. While Redgrave and Pinsent were largely moulded by Grobler's power-based methods – the stronger you are, the faster you go – Foster has had to compensate for his lack of strength by developing a natural fluency and economy of stroke. He has been influenced by a variety of coaches at the University of London, Oxford and in the British squad, including Harry Mahon, the pocket coaching genius who died earlier this year. The hardest shift for Foster will be crossing the undefined divide between competitor and the coach. Arriving at the Leander Club in Henley, the base for the Redgrave four, the other morning, he had to redraw the boundaries.

"I usually chuck my bag down in the changing room and wander off to have a chat," he says. "But I had to deliberately check myself. I didn't want to be in the changing room because there's a special room for the coaches. At breakfast, I felt I should sit with the other coaches. It's a very definite change and one that's very difficult to make, but I've consciously had to do it. It's not come naturally.

"The first morning I met up with a couple from the eight. Now I couldn't say to them: 'The earlier you get up, the more ergo exercises you do, the better you'll be' because they know damn well that's not quite the way I did it. I don't think I'll ever be Jürgen mark two. My strength was rhythm, flair and technique, his was system, professionalism and programme. But Jürgen proved to me you could mix the two. He made me a better rower. That's what I've got to do for others." It is a tribute to the Amateur Rowing Association that they should be prepared to fast-track Foster through the ranks on the basis of a hunch. Too often in this country, talented coaches have been lost in the labyrinthine route to the top.

"One of the real bonuses is that I'll be working with top-class athletes, which is a fantastic opportunity for an inexperienced coach. I've not ruled out coaching a boat in Athens at the Olympics. I'd love to coach a crew to gold. I know I'm not going to be standing on the podium again, but I can be standing on the bank feeling just as proud."

Three days of Foster's new working week will be spent in Henley, the other four in London. And the eighth? In the early mornings and late evenings, Foster coaches at the University of London, payment in kind for his accommodation, a chaotic, but cosy, flat above the University boathouse in Chiswick. The views from the balcony take in the sweep of the bend upstream to Brentford and Kew Bridge; the finish of the boat race, where Foster tasted defeat as the stroke of the Oxford eight in 1997, lies to the south-east. Foster can point to the house where he once lived as a student, about 100 yards up the road, and numbers his six years at the boathouse as the most formative of his career. The university is threatening to sell the boathouse for housing development, which means that Foster will have to vacate his lodgings. More significantly, a great tradition of rowing, a lengthy and very particular heritage, is in danger of being sold right down Chiswick Reach. The board etched with the past captains of the University boatclub frame his head as he talks. 1993-94 T J C Foster.

"I'm not someone who gets angry very often, but I feel very passionately about this," he says. "This club has taken me from a school leaver to being an Olympic medallist and there have been a lot like me down the years. Steve used to train out of here in the early 80s. Yet this time next year, this might not be here, which means that the next generations of rowers will not have the same opportunity. I would not have been at Sydney without being here."

With the four, they used to joke about Foster's UL background. "Steve and Matt would look out at the water at Henley some days and say it was a bit rough for an outing. I'd say it was perfect water for UL boys because we were brought up on a pretty tricky stretch of the river here. You didn't come here for the plush carpets or the decor or the television. You had to learn to look after yourself and think for yourself. That developed a really chippy, underdog spirit. Our attitude to the Boat Race was: 'How come Oxford and Cambridge always get to the final?' There were no minibuses ready to pick you up and take you to the boathouse as there were at Oxford. One year, I clocked up 6,000 miles on my bike, riding between the boathouse and my flat in Euston."

A dinner was held last month to raise funds for the club. Redgrave flew down from Scotland at his own expense to make a speech, then donated extra cash to the cause. Foster believes the boathouse could be developed into a profitable business as a fitness centre, for use by the club, rowers and the general public. "It is almost unthinkable that such a strong tradition of rowing should be lost," he adds. "But then the university doesn't seem to view rowing in the same way as the rest of the country at the moment."

Foster's part in that improbable popularity has brought him untold riches. His earnings last year were the highest ever, he says. So, how much? "About £25,000, including grants." Hardly a companion for David Beckham in the rich list then. But Foster's wealth is not easily calculated. "I never anticipated buying the mansion," he says. "A gold medal is a lifetime's ambition and if someone offered me the medal or a million pounds, I'd take the medal every time. I had dreamt of crossing the line, of hearing the anthem and wearing the medal, I expected my mum to be crying and Jürgen to be excited, but I never expected 20,000 out there to be so excited and 1,000 to be at the airport when we came home."

One anniversary has passed almost unnoticed. Cracknell rang up on 23 September, 2001 to remind him, but the celebratory reunion dinner they all promised has yet to be eaten, despite the offer of a free meal from a curry house in Henley. One day, they will do it. But Redgrave is currently in Mauritius, Pinsent and Cracknell are on course for Athens. "What would we talk about if we got together? Would we talk about the race? We can definitely pick up where we left off. The relationship is quite brotherly in that respect. But if we're going to get together to mark the 10th anniversary, we'd better start organising it now." They might even raise a glass or two in honour of T J C Foster down Abergavenny way.

Biography: Tim Foster

Born: 19 January 1970, Hillingdon, Bedford.

Lives: London.

Height: 6ft 2in. Weight: 14st 1lb.

Major achievements: 1987 and 1988 World Junior Championships (gold). 1989 and 1991 World Championships (bronze, eight); 1994 World Championships (bronze, coxless four); 1995 World Championships (silver, coxless four); 1996 Olympics (bronze, coxless four); 1997 World Championships (gold, coxless four), 1998 World Championships (gold, coxless four); 1999 World Championships (silver, eight); 2000 Olympics (gold, coxless four).

Legend has it: While training in Brazil his boat sank in the Amazon river, and he was left chest-deep in water to swim back to the bank in piranha-infested water.