An idiot's guide to crashing

You want some?

You want some?

So we’re have a great little dice on our SV650s. Two laps to go and I lose third place so methinks, ‘fuck this, he’s having it next time round, I’ll outbreak him and nip up the inside. Piece of piss’.

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Now, I could have sworn that I was actually through and the twat cut across my front wheel. In fact, that’s just what I told everybody afterwards. Then these bloody photos came out! I still think the photo sequence starts a second late and I was actually in front. I was!

You know that split second when you realise it’s about to go wrong, why don’t we actually shit ourselves? It’s a mystery. I do remember that ‘fuck it’ moment but then it was a bit of a blur until the Marshals and medics are telling me not to move. Fuck that, I was checking that everything moved. In fact there was next to fuck all wrong with me but I had to stay alert as those fuckers can’t wait to start cutting your leathers off given half a chance. They got a little excited because I landed on my head/neck and were mad keen to have a go at whacking the neck brace on before carting me off in the ambo.

So, the moral of the story? Don’t be a twat!