Diane Patricia Youdale (born 13 February 1970) is an English television personality, who is best known for her role as "Jet" on the television series Gladiators.
Born in Middlesbrough to an astronomer father, Youdale grew up in the nearby town of Billingham, where she studied at the Billingham Campus School.
Youdale competed in gymnast events and was North of England Junior Gymnastics Champion for four years. One of her first television appearances was in the 1983 Thames Television show Junior Gymnast of the Year, where she finished in fifth place with 32.70 points.
She acted with the National Youth Theatre. She studied dance at London Contemporary School for Dance and was a member of the National Youth Dance Company. She also worked at Farnham Sports Centre before getting her big television break.
Youdale's first television appearance was in the series She-Wolf of London. She appeared on Gladiators from 1992 to 1996, leaving the show after hurting her back in a fall in an unaired show, her last domestic series was series 4 in 1995. She was competing on the pyramid and fell awkwardly as she tackled a contender, trapping nerves in her neck. As a consequence of her injury, the pyramid was suspended for one series and a change in the rules was necessitated (which was later adopted for the 2008 revival of the American series).
Oh the palm trees wave on high all along that fertile shore
Adieu, you Hills of Kerry, I never will see you more
Oh, why did I leave my home, And why did I cross the sea?
And leave the small birds singing around you sweet Tralee
The noble and the brave have departed from your shore
They´ve gone, they've gone to fight the war's, where the mighty cannons roar
Will they ever again return To see old Ireland free
And hear the small birds singing, around you sweet Tralee
Will I ever see the shamrock, that sprig so fine and grand
Or hear the curlew flying high O'er lowly Banna Strand
As I stand on this foreign shore And think on what might be
Will I ever more return again, to see you sweet Tralee
No more I'll see the sunbeams on that precious harvest morn
Or hear our reaper singing in a field of golden corn
There´s an end to every woe and a cure for every pain
But the laughing eye's of my darling girl, I never will see again
Oh the palm trees wave on high all along that fertile shore
Adieu, you Hills of Kerry, I never will see you more
Oh, why did I leave my home, And why did I cross the sea?
And leave the small birds singing, around you sweet Tralee