We’ve watched Tom Daley grow up in the spotlight — diving from dizzying heights, collecting Olympic medals, and charming millions with his resilience.
But behind the bright lights and podiums, there was a heartbreaking story unfolding — one that shaped the man he is today.
In his new documentary Tom Daley: 1.6 Seconds, the British diving legend gets personal, reflecting on his meteoric rise in the sport and the devastating loss that nearly broke him.
Released this Sunday by Warner Bros.
Discovery, the 90-minute film dives deep into the moments that mattered most — and hurt the most.
The Diagnosis That Changed Everything
Long before he became a household name, Tom’s life was rocked by news no child should have to hear.
In 2006, when he was just a boy finding his place on the diving board, his father Robert was diagnosed with a brain tumour.
Doctors managed to remove most of it, but over time, it began to grow back.
Tom recalls walking into the hospital, seeing his dad lying there with his head bandaged, and hearing the word “tumour” for the first time.
“I wasn’t told it was terminal,” he says in the film. “I always thought he’d get better. You just think your parents are invincible.”
Despite his illness, Robert stayed by Tom’s side — literally.
He followed his son to competitions around the world, always cheering the loudest.
The Call That Changed His World
Fast forward to 2011. Tom was in Mexico, deep into training for the London Olympics, when everything came crashing down.
“My mum called and said, ‘You’re coming home today. Your dad’s not well.
He’s been put on end-of-life care.’”
Tom rushed back to Plymouth. Robert had been moved into a downstairs room to make him more comfortable.
From that point on, Tom did everything he could to be by his dad’s side.
“I’d sit next to him whenever I wasn’t at school or training.
I was even studying for my driving theory test next to him. It was the only thing we could still do together.”
A Final Squeeze of the Hand
Tom turned 17 just days before his dad passed.
“He wanted to get to the window to see me on my birthday, but he couldn’t really walk. Still, he tried.”
He remembers coming back from his first driving lesson on May 27 — the day Robert died.
“I kept squeezing his hand. And then, there was one squeeze that didn’t come back. That was the last one.”
The grief was all-consuming. “I didn’t just lose my dad.
He was my best friend, my cheerleader, my mentor. Everything in our world stopped.”
Grieving in the Public Eye
Just a year later, Tom stood on the Olympic podium in London, clutching his first Olympic medal — a bronze. But he confesses he wasn’t really present.
“I was on autopilot,” he admits. “There are chunks of time I don’t even remember.
I just kept doing what people expected of me. I didn’t know how else to cope.”
He returned to training almost immediately. “I didn’t let myself grieve.
I felt alone and had to pretend like everything was fine. But it wasn’t. I didn’t know how to be vulnerable.”
Carrying the Pain into Greatness
Despite the emotional burden, Tom continued to achieve greatness — gold in Tokyo, five Olympic medals, and a legacy as one of Britain’s greatest divers.
But 1.6 Seconds isn’t about the medals. It’s about what it took to keep going when it felt like everything had fallen apart.
The film isn’t just a celebration of a career. It’s a love letter to a father, a portrait of strength through heartbreak, and a reminder that even heroes grieve.
As Tom puts it, “He was there through everything.
And even though he’s not physically with me anymore, I still carry him with me in every dive.”