Motocross

Mashed Perretto

Mashed Perretto

PARASITE ON parasite is what I’m all about this month but I’ll let you decide who’s on who. I have a new bug living on my body – it’s called ‘the sofa’ and it’s a terrible affliction. PARASITE ON parasite is what I’m all about this month but I’ll let you decide who’s on who. I have a new bug living on my body – it’s called ‘the sofa’ and it’s a terrible affliction. It’s taken hold and spread across my back, leaving it almost impossible to deal with numbers one and two in the little boys room and it even hurts to reach across for the Frank Zapper (remote control).
If the phone rings there’s always the answering machine and if a fire breaks out I don’t know how I’m going to escape through the door with this thing attached to my back like a snail’s house. It’s amazing to think that this medical condition – common among students – has been brought on by the complete contrast of roosting around on a motocross bike.
That’s what’s happened to me. One small incident and it only takes a couple of hours for the sofa to spread like wildfire and get its energy-sapping teeth into you. The start of the chain reaction towards this life threatening disease came about in Germany. I was there with the godfather of British MX photography – Mister Ray Archer – doing a photoshoot when the softest of crashes set the ball rolling.
It’s always the little get-offs that get you into trouble, whether it’s bikes or the opposite sex. In our pursuit of getting the perfect corner shot with the handlebars cutting through the sand I nearly lost a leg like a shop window mannequin in the infamous LA riots. I threw the bike hard left into the time-glass sand and got it laid down with the bars dug in. Unfortunately, my leg was also dug in – about two metres behind me.
This only confirmed what I already knew, I’m not designed to do the splits. My hair may well be constantly parting in opposite directions on top of my swede but my legs are not so natural or happy in that position – I was torn apart like a chicken at a redneck’s dinner-table.
What made the whole experience more eye-watering was the fact I was stuck like that for a few seconds because my legs were spread so far apart that I couldn’t pull them back together again. I heard a ‘thunk’ sound – ya know like in Batman – and instantly knew I’d done myself some damage. I spent the next two days walking around like Frank Drebin with the Farmer Giles and to make matters worse we still had pictures to get.
But like the complete professional that I am, I didn’t continue. Actually that’s a lie, we finished the photos and then I had to make a promotional video which normally would’ve been good fun but this was becoming less enjoyable by the second. In the end I walked or rather shuffled off set demanding that 500 paracetamol and a two-litre bottle of Jack Daniels got sent to my trailer or I was gonna torch it. In fairness, everyone was understanding to my discomfort and we soldiered on to get everything we needed wrapped up in time.
So my legs were at a quarter past nine on the Wednesday before the British championship but I thought I might be moving more freely by the weekend. I thought wrong. I’ve never had a groin injury before and I know I won’t be wanting another. The physio said that it may take six weeks before the injury is even 80 per cent right so with that in mind I figured it was best to give Wakes Colne a wide berth – like Lyng I’ve never had good luck there anyway.
So after the intensity of May, what with the GP build-up and all, June has been nice and easy. I’ve managed to get some treatment for my affliction and it came in the form of some minibike action and a day out in London. I was relieved of the painful experience that is sprawling out watching Mel and Des and instead went and saw Revs, Pax, Rosco and Clown beat and slam into each other on their mini-mules.
I’m glad I went because Clown blessed us with the biggest minibike crash ever witnessed on these shores. He came up short over Mount St Helen – the highest point on Rev’s superb purpose-built circuit – and become the first rider to perform the front flip. I felt privileged to witness it just as much as he was to perform it.
It’s a good job the boys are on form, we’ve been asked to appear in a new Chilli video production on the C90s – so look out for Turbo Man hitting your screens soon. I don’t mean the Red Hot Chilli Peppers of course, that’s just wishful thinking, although I did go and see them play at Hyde Park this month and they were brilliant.
Oh yes, I could easily adapt to this lifestyle and now Laura has got her degree in Law with flying colours the sofa disease may well be terminal. Now if you’ll excuse me I must get my groin looked at… ‘Where’s my mac?’
Words by Jeff Perrett