Kye Whyte gave us one of the signature moments of the Tokyo Olympics, sweeping Beth Shriever off the track at the climax of her frantic BMX victory, two kids from south and east London bonded in an unforgettable platonic embrace.
11 minutes earlier Whyte had claimed Britain’s first Olympic medal in the sport, a silver that he felt should have been gold. He was awash with competing emotions but set all that aside to cheer on a teammate he had known for a decade. The pair set Twitter ablaze, capturing the essence of Olympic theatre; unbridled passion, unadulterated enthusiasm, absolute commitment and camaraderie.
Little known before his effusive cascade, Whyte was inadvertently propelled into an unfamiliar lane. So much so that the crossover appeal of the 21-year-old from Peckham earned a call from the producers of Dancing on Ice, where he conquered an alien environment to progress to the semi-finals. He had not been on skates before and hasn’t since. His respect for the discipline is too great.
But in those nine weeks on ice none connected more with the audience or the panel of judges, one of whom, Oti Mabuse, was awash with tears as she digested the news that Whyte’s mother Tracey had been diagnosed with leukaemia.
“We practiced so much it got to the point where you barely see the cameras,” Whyte told i from the safety of a coffee bar in his adopted home of Manchester, where he is in the thick of preparations for a second rush at gold in Paris.
“I think I preferred the live shows. In practice you do it over and over again. In the live shows you do it once and that’s it.
“It’s dangerous, too, and it hurts when you fall. BMX hurts, but on the ice it’s one little mistake and you are done. I probably trained more for ice skating than I did for BMX.”
Whyte’s growing public imprint is also reflected in a number of big brand sponsorships, including Oral B and Braun. The Olympic connection is obviously the selling point, but one that is underpinned by striking physicality and the authenticity of a genuine community hero.
“Peckham is not a place where you find a lot of sports people or people with wealthy backgrounds. I’m not doing this just because I’m a competitor and want to have fun on my bike. I’m doing it because people rely on me, kids rely on someone to look up to. I want to show them that there is more than one way to get to the top.”
Whyte owes his BMX immersion to a sports mad father with an altruistic bent, a man who gave his time and attention to kids with loads of energy and few outlets. Before he left for Manchester and the life of a professional athlete, Peckham was all Whyte knew, and to where he returns whenever there is a gap in the schedule.
“I see my family. That’s where they all live. And I go to the track and coach the kids, give them a walloping because they think they are better than me already. I bring them down to ground level and show them how it really is.”
This he delivers tongue in cheek, of course. He is, in fact, a reluctant consumer of his own success.
“I don’t like being a someone or having status. I just like to ride my bike and get results. But with success responsibility comes.
“It’s good to give back. I was that kid looking up at older riders thinking one day that will be me. Not all the kids in the world have the opportunity to travel and have fun riding bikes.
“If I can show them what is possible, show them that riding a BMX bike to the best of their ability can take you around the world, get stuff paid for and win Olympic medals. I like that.”
Despite hiding in the kitchen at parties, Whyte knows how to high roll when it suits, especially when it comes to his love of Arsenal. Whyte is close friends with fellow 24-year-old South Londoners, Reiss Nelson and Eddie Nketiah. Tickets for home games tend to be snapped up by family members, but when the Gunners head north, Whyte’s their man.
“I grew up with Reiss. I step in for some away games like Liverpool and Manchester. I went to Anfield this season. 1-1. We did ok but could have done more.”
The idea of doing more brings us back to Paris, talking of which inevitably triggers memories of Tokyo, where missing out on gold still niggles. Whyte was rapid out of the gate but second to the first corner, from where Dutch rider Niek Kimmann controlled the race. Three years older and wiser, Whyte burns for a second crack at gold.
“I felt like I should have won. The emotion going to Paris is, if I get in the same position to make sure I don’t make the same mistake and win.
“I was happy because I was first to get a medal for GB. Then I was angry because I should have won. And then I was happy again because I was the youngest there, just 21, everyone else was 25 and above.
“I was ranked seventh going into the Olympics. They were wrong about that.”
Before Paris there are three important events to contest; the fifth and sixth rounds of the World Cup in April, the World Championships in May and the European Championships in June. Should he survive unscathed, then he can start thinking about Saint-Quentin-en-Yvelines, a suburb south west of the city on the outskirts of Versailles. The plan is always the same.
“Get to the first turn first, or at least top three. With my abilities I believe I can still win the race from there. That’s different for others. If I get to that first turn first I believe I have the race sealed.”