By STEVE SIMMONS -- Toronto Sun
  When he closes his eyes, Brian Thomas can see his dream so clearly.

  The uniform he is wearing is Canadian. Music is playing. He is walking in the opening ceremonies of the Summer Olympic Games. And there is excitement everywhere.

  But when he opens his eyes, the whole world changes. There is frustration in his voice. There is a sense of desperation about him. The walls are closing in on him, and there is almost nothing he can do about it.

  Brian Thomas is one of the best long-jumpers in Canada, but he is out of money and soon he will be out of time.

  To get to Sydney in September, he has to meet an Olympic standard of jumping that he has met before. But he has to do it in a official registered meet. And he has to do it soon.

  "I see all those commercials on television, everyone saying they back the Olympics, all those Canadian athletes running and swimming and jumping," said Thomas. "But I don't know where that money goes. We don't see it. If I train, I can't really work. If I work, I can't really train. I read stories about canoeists not eating because they can't afford to, I hear about other athletes who can't afford to go to competitions. This is a big joke sometimes.''

  But the joke isn't very funny right now.

  Twice, Thomas was the Ontario high school champion in long jump. That earned him an American university scholarship. But with his college time over and his government funding cut off, there has to be money to live, money to train, money to travel to meets.

  And the last thing an athlete should be worrying about on his way to the Olympics is where the next dollar is coming from.

  On his own, Thomas has tried to find sponsorship. He has even stood out on Bay St. and attempted to meet people in the financial community -- just to ask for a little help. Just for the kind of push that could get him to Sydney in September. And he's not, by any means, alone.

  Athea Williams understands his plight as well as anyone. The Canadian record-holder in the triple jump, Williams shares an Etobicoke apartment with Thomas, a friendship, as well as the Olympic dream.

  A few weeks ago, they drove seven hours to a qualifying track meet in Sherbrooke, Que., got out of their car, competed, then turned around and drove home.

  "I drove there, had six jumps in half an hour, drove straight home, got changed, went to work,'' said Williams, who works overnight for a telemarketing firm to make ends meet. "This is the way my life goes. I go to work at 6, get home at 3:30 in the morning, go to sleep and then get up in the morning and train.

  "A lot of times I think I'm dealing with sleep deprivation. My coach tells me I'm crazy. That's basically what's so frustrating. You want to do something, you believe in what you're doing. It's hard enough to make it to the Olympics under perfect conditions. You do it the way we're doing it...''

  She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to.

  There is a training camp and some meets in the first week of July in Arizona that Thomas and Williams desperately want to attend. The conditions there should be perfect, the altitude ideal for their sports. Everything says they should go -- this is their shot -- but they can't afford it. They can't afford the $3,000 to cover flights, a stay at a dormitory and food.

  "I've done some things I'd never thought I'd do,'' said Thomas. "As a promotion, I jumped over a car to raise funds. There was this major trip to Malaysia. I was so spent by the time I got there -- because I'd put so much energy into raising money rather than training -- that I wasn't even a factor. But I have to do what I have to do.''

  The discipline in getting to the Olympics is startling. Training is full-time work. Competing at the world level is a job. But no one is paying for Thomas and Williams to do it. No one, as of yet, has stepped forward.

  "To say this is difficult is an understatement,'' said Williams, the former champion at University of Toronto. "There are days when all of it just wears you out. You're trying so hard and then you say, 'What do I have to show for it?'''

  Brian Thomas tries to stay focused, tries to remain optimistic. But he knows that by next week, he needs to be in Arizona.

  "This is my last shot,'' said Thomas, 30. "In '92, I finished second in the trials, they took two long-jumpers and left me off. At the last Olympic trials, I pulled my hamstring and finished third. This is all I've ever wanted.''

  And time is running out.