In the crisp, unforgiving arenas of the Milano Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics, an 18-year-old Australian freeskier named Daisy Thomas captured the hearts of a nation—not through a podium finish, but through sheer resilience in the face of heartbreak. Daisy, a rising star in freeski slopestyle and big air, had already overcome a ruptured ACL just months earlier in November 2025 during a World Cup event in China. She fought through grueling rehabilitation, returned to competition, and earned her spot on the Australian Olympic team for her debut Games.

Yet fate dealt another cruel blow: crashes in training forced her withdrawal from slopestyle and, ultimately, big air. What could have been a triumphant introduction to the world stage turned into a painful reminder of the fragility of dreams in elite sport.

Amid this personal adversity, the story took an unexpected turn when One Nation leader and Senator Pauline Hanson stepped forward with a powerful defense of the young athlete. In a statement that reverberated across Australia, Hanson condemned the harsh criticisms directed at Daisy, calling them an affront to the country’s core values.

“What Daisy Thomas is going through is an insult to the Australian spirit of looking out for each other,” Hanson declared. “How can someone be so cruel, criticizing a 19-year-old girl who is carrying the expectations of an entire nation on her young shoulders? She may not win, but she has sacrificed her dreams to fight for Australia.”

Then came the 13-word warning that stunned the nation and ignited fierce debate: “Leave our Daisy alone—she’s already given everything; don’t take her spirit too.”

Those words, raw and protective, struck a chord. In an era where social media amplifies every opinion, often without empathy, Hanson’s intervention highlighted a growing divide. Some praised her for championing a vulnerable young woman against online trolls and armchair critics. Others questioned the politicization of sport, arguing that public figures should stay out of athletic matters. But few could deny the emotional weight of the moment. Within minutes of the statement circulating, Daisy—overwhelmed by the support—broke down in tears and penned a heartfelt open letter to her fellow Australians.

In her response, Daisy expressed gratitude for the outpouring of love while reflecting on the toll of high-level competition. “I’ve poured my heart into this sport since I was three years old,” she wrote. “The jumps, the spins, the landings—they’re not just tricks; they’re pieces of who I am. But injuries remind us we’re human. The hardest part isn’t the pain in my knee or shoulder; it’s feeling like I’ve let people down. Your messages, your belief in me, mean more than any medal ever could.”

Daisy’s journey began in Sydney, where she first strapped on skis at age three. Initially drawn to alpine racing at Perisher, she transitioned through moguls before discovering her true passion in park and pipe freestyle skiing in 2019, inspired by her brother. By 2021, she was claiming podiums in the Australia New Zealand Cup. Her breakthrough came at the 2024 Winter Youth Olympic Games in Gangwon, where she secured silver in big air with daring tricks like a double cork 1080 and switch bio 900, alongside a top-five finish in slopestyle.

These achievements propelled her onto the senior international circuit. Top-10 World Cup results and top-20 World Championship finishes showcased her potential. Yet freestyle skiing remains a brutal discipline—demanding not just athletic prowess but mental fortitude. Athletes routinely push their bodies to extremes, landing jumps over 60 feet while rotating multiple times in the air. For Daisy, the path to Milano Cortina involved self-funding much of her training, as park and pipe lacks full national coaching support. She balanced school, sponsorship pursuits, and relentless practice, all while chasing an Olympic dream that felt tantalizingly close.

The injuries compounded the challenge. The initial ACL rupture sidelined her for critical months. Rehabilitation demanded patience and pain tolerance. When she returned, optimism soared. Selection for the Olympics was a validation of her grit. But training mishaps in Livigno and later sessions shattered that momentum. First came the slopestyle withdrawal after re-injuring her knee. Then, in big air preparation, a shoulder impact forced another heartbreaking decision. Australian team officials, after consultations with medical experts, confirmed her full withdrawal from the Games.

In the wake of these events, criticism emerged online—some questioning her readiness, others mocking the “hype” around a young debutant who didn’t compete. It was this negativity that prompted Hanson’s intervention. As a polarizing political figure known for her blunt style, Hanson rarely shies from controversy. Yet her words about Daisy were different: maternal, protective, and deeply patriotic.

“She’s already given everything; don’t take her spirit too,” the warning concluded. It encapsulated a broader sentiment: Australia prides itself on mateship, on rallying around those who represent the nation. Daisy, at just 18 (turning 19 in May 2026), embodied that ideal—a kid from humble beginnings daring to compete on the global stage for a country better known for summer sports than winter ones.

The response was immediate and polarized. Supporters flooded Daisy’s social media with encouragement. Fellow athletes, coaches, and even some politicians echoed Hanson’s call for kindness. Critics, however, saw it as opportunistic grandstanding, accusing Hanson of exploiting a sports story for political gain. Media outlets dissected the 13 words endlessly, debating whether they were heartfelt or calculated.

Regardless, the episode sparked a national conversation about mental health in sport, the pressures on young athletes, and the role of public discourse. Daisy’s tearful letter became a rallying point. She spoke openly about the isolation of injury, the fear of failure, and the overwhelming support that helped her heal. “I’m not defined by what I couldn’t do at these Games,” she wrote. “I’m defined by how I keep getting up. Thank you for reminding me I’m not alone.”

Daisy’s story is far from over. Recovery will take time, but her talent remains undeniable. At the Olympic Winter Institute of Australia and through scholarships like the Sport Australia Hall of Fame program, she has the infrastructure to rebuild. Sponsors such as Moments Skis, Dragon, The North Face, and others continue to back her. The freestyle community—tight-knit and supportive—stands ready to welcome her back.

In defending Daisy, Pauline Hanson reminded Australia of something essential: compassion amid competition. The 13-word warning wasn’t just about one athlete; it was a plea to preserve the spirit of a generation chasing dreams in the spotlight. Daisy Thomas may not have medaled in Milano Cortina, but she inspired a nation to protect its own—to shield the young, the brave, and the vulnerable from unnecessary cruelty.

As Daisy embarks on her road to recovery and future competitions, she carries more than injuries; she carries the love of a country that, for a moment, united in her defense. In sport, as in life, true victory often lies not in triumph, but in the courage to persevere—and in the mates who stand by you when the jumps don’t land.