At the Indy GP last weekend, the laconic Texan from Longview, Ben Spies, got pole and a podium at the Indianapolis. Which is a good thing. I saw him race in AMA in 2007. Tough, matter of fact, smart racer – more of a chess player than a brawler on the track.
The odd story came from the wild redneck Texan, Colin Edwards. Edwards, Spies’ teammate, has been having a rough season, and it might be his last in the premier class. He conducted a profanity-laced pre-race press conference, saying he going fucking fishing and asked the moderator to shut the fuck up about his results this year because he knew they sucked, and bringing it up again wasn’t helping.
I watched the race, and saw Edwards race drop back in the order, then pull off into the pits after missing a corner. His crew was changing his rear tire, and Edwards got a SPEED TV microphone shoved in his face. He made some vague comment about the rear tire, and added “What’s the point?” He goes back out for a lap or so, then he’s back in the pits. Wasn’t anything wrong with his bike. And he wasn’t sounding like a Texas Tornado should.
Turns out he was a mentor to a wicked fast 13 year old from Oregon, Peter Lenz. I’d heard a couple interviews with Peter over the past couple years, which demonstrated that he had some adult promotional organization and that he was, in fact, a level headed 13 year old, tough and focused. Peter was racing in a support class at Indy, riding a USGPRU 250 Moriwaki, the formula that will replace the 125s. It was a big chance to race before an international crowd. Pulling into the pits during practice, he was hit by another rider and died.
Edwards offered this after the race: “This is the life we choose as racers. I’ve had teammates die, seen friends die and honestly this one hurts the most but … this is the reality of the situation. If they offered a class for 13 year olds to go roadracing when I was 13, I’d have done it in a heartbeat.”
Later, the mainstream media takes notice, with the usual levelheadedness it usually applies to the death of children and motorcycling in general. And motorcyclists get defensive (it’s in our nature – it’s how you stay alive on the roads). The incident, according to those who observed it, was unavoidable. It was not the result of speed, or lack of skill. It was dumb, horrible, heart destroying luck. The random noise of physics countering all human intentions.
Meanwhile, at the Isle of Man, two riders die at the Manx GP. Another rider died at the TT earlier this year. This is predictable. The Isle of Man is notorious for killing racers, young and old, year in and year out. It’s a hold over from when motorcycle racing was new, and didn’t give a damn. According to Mat Oxley in his excellent book Stealing Speed, the risk a death was an attraction to the English racers who saw their older brothers and uncles go up and possibly come back in Spitfires. Man, motor and death. Motorcycle roadracing took a life a month for many years.
Now, protection is better, tracks are safer, medical staff is present, and death is rare. The tolerance for death is calculated the same way, and the random will now and then collect a soul.
The One In Five 
