Last night, I was very lucky to attend the world premiere of director Vadim Jean’s new documentary, Daley: Olympic Superstar.
(Leigh went to university with Vadim, and they’ve stayed good friends, which is how we got the invitation.)
Daley is great. Very moving and inspiring and, at points, enraging. BBC2 will be screening it on July 16th at 9pm. That’s about ten days before the Olympics start.
When I was at school, Daley Thompson wasn’t my athletic hero. That was Sebastian Coe — who was absent last night, although Linford Christie, Tessa Sanderson, Sally Gunnell, Steve Cram, Denise Lewis and a whole load of other stars of track and field were in attendance.
I was an 800 metre runner. Good enough to run in the Public Schools Relays, on the Iffley Road track, where Roger Bannister had broken the 4 minute mile. Not good enough to do much else, apart from finish equal last in the Ampthill Park steeplechase.
So, as a teenager, I read Seb Coe’s first autobiography, and imagined having a ribcage that big, legs that spindly, and a running style unmatched — in my opinion — until David Rudisha came along. Seb was the one.
However, my art teacher, Mr Cox, used to refer to Daley Thompson quite frequently.
What Mr Cox said was this, or something like it —
Daley Thompson does ten events in the decathlon. But he doesn’t train for all of them equally. He trains more for the ones he’s not so good at. You should do that, too. Concentrate on improving your weaknesses, because your strengths are already strong.
I held onto this for most of my adult life, as extremely good advice, before I had the chance to check if it was true.
Leigh and I attended Vadim’s wedding. And on the double decker bus from the church to the reception, I sat next to Daley Thompson.
He was wearing Adidas sportswear, of course.
Apart from a little grey around the temples, he looked just like the man who won two Olympic golds.
We chatted a bit about the wedding, which had been lovely. Then I took my chance. I told Daley about Mr Cox, and asked him if it was true — had he really put more effort into his weakest events?
I can’t remember his exact words, but they were something like —
Meh, not really — I trained at everything, all the time.
Although I was a little disappointed, I held back from contacting Mr Cox to let him know about my fact checking.
Was this true? Had Mr Cox made it up? Had I misremembered?
Cut to last night, and midway through the documentary, we hear Daley speaking in some archive audio.
He says words very much to this effect —
I spent twice as long on the events I was bad at as those I was good at.
Mr Cox was vindicated.
And that advice remains some of the best life and art advice I know.
Straight from Daley.
Twice as long.
Spend twice as long.