GB divers selling OnlyFans subscriptions is a shocking example to set

Sorry to disabuse you, but on Friday the Olympic oath will be sworn on the Seine and a lot of fingers should be crossed behind backs.

The wording reads: ‘In the name of all competitors, I promise that we shall take part in these Olympic Games, respecting and abiding by the rules which govern them, committing ourselves to a sport without doping and without drugs, in the true spirit of sportsmanship, for the glory of sport and honour of our team.’

Scales have long fallen from our eyes. Ben Johnson’s horror in winning the 100 metres gold in Seoul and being found to be drugged to his toenails played a part in that. I remember, too, going to interview Tyson Gay in Florida when he was precisely what he didn’t want to be: the world’s second fastest man. 

Usain Bolt was the fastest. Tyson told me that on his life, his mother’s life and his daughter’s life, and in the name of God, he would never do drugs. I fell for it. Then he was busted.

For me, the purity of the Olympics was destroyed with that result more directly than the myriad of failed tests that we all know about. All of which is to say that the Olympics — so brilliant and populated by extraordinary young men and women of high character with dreams to fulfil — is not as pure as the old French baron, Pierre de Coubertin, would have wished when he dreamt up the Olympic ideal in the 1890s.

He was inspired by the notion of Muscular Christianity, as practised on the playing fields of England’s public schools. The International Olympic Committee was modelled on Henley Royal Regatta’s stewards’ structure. Those concepts are as out of step with modern times as a horse and cart. 

Nonetheless, you don’t need to be too old fashioned to look askance at the spectacle of 29-year-old diver Jack Laugher, as well as Tom Daley’s sporting partner Noah Williams and fellow team-mates, parading themselves on the pornographic-leaning OnlyFans.

A colleague saved me the embarrassment of signing up — and saved you the same hassle — to share with me a few images of these semi-naked Olympians. 

Admittedly, divers are never likely to be dressed like snooker players. But is it really sane for a representative of the British team to pose semi-naked with his hands down his pants — for a £7.75-a-month subscription on a site used by sex workers?

The excuse is that there is not much money to be made away from the major names and big gold medals. But in an age cursed by the availability of porn on the internet to vulnerable youngsters, is this the best example to set? Clearly not.

The British Olympic Association should not turn a blind eye to it. They should demand that a certain sense of propriety be observed. Is it illegal? No, but that doesn’t obviate the need to conform to levels of decency.

‘I have something that people want,’ argues Laugher. ‘I feel comfortable with what I’m doing.’ Compared to these Games’ drug cheats, who hide in plain sight, you can see how he rationalises it. But edifying? It’s nothing of the sort.