WANTED: A Sven-type figure to guide Britain's athletes to greater, gold-tinged glory.

That's the appeal that has sprung from a five-month review of athletics conducted by Sir Andrew Foster.

Charged with examining the state of the sport in the wake of the wretched showings in the respective world championships in Edmonton and, more recently, Paris, Foster has come up with the notion that a supremo in the mould of England national football coach Sven-Goran Eriksson or rugby union World-Cup winning coach Sir Clive Woodward is needed.

An inspirational figure-head of Woodward or Eriksson's ilk would, ventured Foster, be just the person to galvanise our under-achieving athletes at the 2008 Olympic Games, which are to be held in the Chinese city of Beijing.

Believing athletics to need 'some fresh life breathed into it', Foster declared: "It is not in a terrible condition or in crisis, it is at a cross-roads."

Ignoring the fact that the availability of Eriksson might draw closer depending on how England's footballers' will fare in this summer's European Championships in Portugal, though the rumour mill still has it strong that the Swede will be the next Real Madrid boss, surely these shores possess within them enough talent for a supremo to be appointed sooner rather than later.

What about those former slog on the Tyne boys Steve Cram and Brendan Foster? Now ensconced in the commentator's chair at the BBC, these two can rattle on for gold, let alone for England, so they should be well-versed in the power of persuasive argument. And if China's the destination, they could always call on the services of fellow Geordie Paul Gascoigne, though that could all end in tears as Gazza found on his Oriental trip.

If old school is more your sports bag, then can there be a finer candidate than Sir Roger Bannister? He, whose four-minute mile endeavours were celebrated just this week, would be an eloquent and admirable ambassador to raise the profile of British athletics.

But then again Sir Roger is a million miles away from a sport that is now more commercial in its drive, more professional in its approach, and that more tainted by what could be most kindly described as unscrupulous methods.

So who could pick up such a poison-tipped baton?

Step on to the starting-blocks Daley Thompson.

The man who ruled the world as the most gifted all-round athlete of his era - he won gold medals in the gruelling decathlon event in the Olympics of 1980 and 1984 as well as amassing World, European and Commonwealth titles, plus world records - was one of those rare breed, a British winner.

No-one could doubt his talent. He was peerless during his hey-day. No-one could dispute his drive and his commitment.

And to boot, Thompson was always an outspoken and consistent critic of those athletes who stooped so low as to enter the murky world of stimulant-enhanced performances.

Come on, give us our Daley ''bred and born to win' Thompson.

Updated: 08:46 Tuesday, May 11, 2004