We just know him as an Olympic bronze medal-winning piece of meat who occasionally squeezes himself into a pair of tiny trunks. Nobody ever sits and goes: “so, what’s new with you, Tom? What’s going on?” We don’t know Tom Daley’s fears, or hopes, or whether he likes his peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts on or off. Just cheered and adored for jumping into lukewarm chlorinated water from a height, instead of for anything else.
It must be tough being Tom Daley, just known for his body, and not for his mind.
