Knocked Out…
Published: 14th September 2007
Author: Gordon Crockard Photo by Sutty
…or should that be Crocked out? GC goes down hard at Namur and loses 24 hours of his life!
Well that’s the last time I ask you lot to wish me good luck! Remember how at the end of my last column I asked you all to wish me good luck? Thanks to anyone who did but it didn’t really work so good! A friend sent me an inspiring text on the Saturday morning of the Belgian GP at Namur. He wrote this… ‘Oi, oi GC! Sit down, close your eyes, remember the good feeling and the joy of watching your heroes race round Namur, then the great days of living your dream of racing that legend circuit. Keep it simple, keep it fun, keep it real!’
I took Elly Belly’s advice but I think I may have closed my eyes when riding the bike. Only joking! That didn’t happen but I did lie on the track for over 10 minutes with my eyes closed while I was knocked clean out. Along with being out cold and suffering major concussion I had also shattered my left collarbone into five pieces, snapped my first rib in two, bruised my lung and chest so bad that a month later it’s multi-coloured and taken most of the skin off from my wrist to my elbow.
My first post-crash memory came over 24 hours later in hospital in Namur when I began to realise who I was and where I was. Really bad experience in all as I was there on my own and extremely confused. My mechanic Phil had come to the hospital on the Saturday after my crash which was in qualifying and stayed with me until late in the night. I kept asking him over and over again some basic questions. So much so that he wrote down the details of what had happened, who I was and even some diagrams to help me understand. Amy was at home and I called her to explain what had happened. “Hi, I’ve fallen off the bike and I’m in hospital in Namur.” Trouble was I made the same call six times and after each conversation I’d forget I’d just spoken to her and phone again.
I don’t remember very much of the hospital but as I came in my riding kit straight from where I fell I obviously didn’t have my mobile phone with me although Phil put some numbers on my extremely valuable piece of memory paper and apparently I’d got myself into some empty room and was calling from there. When one of the doctors found me he went ballistic! Apparently! It’s all a bit vague but for sure I wasn’t well…
I got home and slept for a week, only waking to go pee or eat. I had appointments with all the top men in Belfast to have my collarbone scanned and that showed it to be shattered with no chance of surgery to have it plated. I have my next scan on September 10 to check how it’s knitting together. My rib’s also aching but it will heal okay.
I was devastated to miss my home GP at Moneyglass but attended to support the event and represent my sponsors as best I could. It ripped the heart right out of me being there and not being well enough to ride but I put a brave face on and tried to be upbeat and positive to everyone I spoke to.
One thing I won’t forget is the superb determination and skill Toni Macaroni showed the whole world he had in the second MX2 moto. He crashed at the start, buckled his front wheel, lost six spokes and his tear-offs and still came from the back of the pack. Two of the biggest jumps on the track he wouldn’t even do as I reckon he was scared of collapsing his front wheel and he still pulled three seconds a lap on Tommy Searle who was leading. Awesome! I watched with Tommy’s manager Jamie Dobb and his mentor Stefan Everts but they weren’t as thrilled by the fasta pasta munching Italian winning as I was. I felt bad for Tommy though but he’d been beaten by the fastest MX2 rider in the world, including America.
On the Thursday before the GP of Northern Ireland, Phil and I joined some friends at the Dundrod Road Race or Ulster Grand Prix. I’d never been before but knew the circuit and had watched it on TV plenty. Brave men doing huge speeds on bumpy roads scares me but they obviously get such a buzz out of it they’re willing to take the risks. Crazy is an understatement to try and describe the danger.
On the Friday at the MX GP we went to some local sponsors for a catch-up over a cup of coffee. The home races are my chance to promote my local backers and give them media exposure so missing out on competing was a blow to giving them something back. That night a rare opportunity came up to go see a music gig where The Hothouse Flowers were playing. We went for the craic and it was a bit of fun.
After the GP I left for Spain on the Monday. I went to rest and recover and try to escape the reality of how my season has ended. A friend of some friends I have here in Spain was asking me how I hurt myself and when I told him it was a motocross accident he went on to tell me he used to do the film programming for the Paris Bercy SX back in the ’80s and ’90s – he even remembered Jeff Stanton and JM Bayle as being the main men at the time. Small world I thought – but a good one (easy for me to say sitting on the beach of the Costa del Sol with the sun on my face and sea air in my lungs)!
