Motocross

Funny peculiar…

Funny peculiar…

are in tatters – and I don’t mean I’m a dribbling wicker basket-making mess who’s just one breakdown away from the shackles of the straitjacket. MY NERVES are in tatters – and I don’t mean I’m a dribbling wicker basket-making mess who’s just one breakdown away from the shackles of the straitjacket. What I mean is exactly what I say…
I’ve just received the weirdest and most wonderful injury of my life at the British championship. It had to happen at Wakes Colne, something inevitably always does. The circuit is my nemesis, a rival in itself, like 39 other petrolheads ain’t enough to deal with. It’s not that I dislike the place, I enjoy riding there. It just always seems that my MX guardian angel packs his bag and goes on holiday when I’m racing there and the devil himself takes the reins of my fate.
I had my nipples tweaked by Beryl Badluck when I snapped my gearshaft clean off after only one flying lap in timed training. Down the crapper had gone the good start to the day but at least I’d got Beryl off my back – or at least I thought I had! How naive…
Like most nightmare women in any man’s life, Beryl came back to haunt me. There she was, laughing her tits off as Jason Dougan rode across my back and over my arm as I slid out in moto one. My funny bone has taken a direct hit but I ain’t laughing – the damage has been diagnosed as a trapped nerve in my right arm.
No wonder moto two was so bizarre, my brain was more confused than a hermaphrodite’s Y-fronts. I rode three laps with, according to the message my brain was receiving, just one arm. My dysfunctional limb was limper than Graham Norton at a lap-dancing club but it didn’t stop me getting a good start and pinning down a seventh place, oh no, it was the puncture on lap two that ended that particular pleasure.
The physio exercises Nerys Williams told me to do between motos helped to ease the pain in my elbow but only fuelled the frustration of the day. What I had to do was hold my arm out straight beside me and then bend my elbow until I touched my ear. Doesn’t sound frustrating, does it? When you’re checking out the track between motos it is. I had about 20 people thinking I was giving them a Nazi salute. They either looked bemused, aggressive or waved back like Adolf’s doting grandmother – anyone who saw me must have thought that I’d finally lost my marbles. Well, I haven’t but by the end of the day I’d lost my patience a little, that’s for sure.
I did go away from Wakes still very confident about the rest of the season though. I’m glad my bogey track is out of the way and I can carry on my recent form. I came into round two of the British championship in 13th after Canada Heights – now I’m not usually superstitious but going to a track that has got a history of biting you in the crackerjacks and being that place in the standings you have to wonder.
Up until that weekend the month had gone really well. I was made up with the way I raced at Canada Heights after some dreadful starts thanks to the editor’s kiss of death last month when he mouthed off about my great starting technique. I did get a good start in the first abandoned race but I’m not about to bitch about it being black-flagged – how could I? At least I was in one piece, unlike Princey who rang his bell real hard. Best wishes Neil – hope you mend up real quick.
Anyway, my 12-13 scorecard got me into the cup race where I rode hard until I simply ran out of juice with two laps to go, that’s the bike – not my bodily fluids. It’s amazing how distracting a cup of tea and a slice of lemon drizzle cake can be to my pit crew.
So despite that little error and my shocking starts I was happy. I rode the crest of the chirpy wave right up the M1 to Donington for the second round of the KWS series where I rode well enough to go 9-7 and take seventh overall. I think I surprised a few people with my performance. Sir Jack Burnicle was so shocked he was telling everyone I’m off the booze and training hard – and I thought Jack was clued up.
The reason I’m riding well again is because I want to. My bike is awesome, I’m having fun and I’ve now got shedloads more energy thanks to Dave Smith at TD International who’s supplying me with vitamins and sports nutrition. So, if like me your busy social life means you just can’t find the time to train, give him a call on 0191 3855219 and he’ll sort you out.
Speaking of my social life, I have a free window in my diary for tonight – suppose I could make good use of this numb hand of mine!
Words by Jeff Perrett