Double jeopardy
EDITORIAL
LIKE MOST PEOPLE, I JUST LOVE TO BE right. My ego is massaged in all the proper places when I make a statement that I think is full of wisdom and insight, and later events prove me 100-percent correct.
Still, there are those rare occasions when I’d much rather end up being dead-wrong. And a perfect case in point is the editorial I wrote two months ago, for the March issue. In that column, entitled “Fear and loathing in the doubles,” I criticized local-level motocross promoters for their insistence on building double-and triple-jumps into their race-tracks. I complained that jumps of this type, which originally were created to enhance the spectacle of indoor motocross, have no place on amateur-level outdoor tracks; they’re much too dangerous for non-professional riders, and are scaring participants away from motocross faster than any other aspect of the sport can draw them into it.
On the evening of Monday, January 12, 1987, that editorial went to press, along with the rest of the March issue. The very next morning,
I learned of a tragic racing accident that had occurred just two days earlier. During pre-race practice for the Huron, California, round of the CMC’s 1987 Golden State Series, David Bailey, arguably one of the two finest motocross riders in the world today, had been paralyzed from the chest down as a result of crashing on—you guessed it—a double-jump.
Just three weeks later, during the first Supercross of the 1987 season, I watched in shocked disbelief as Ricky Johnson, the other one of motocrossing’s two best, lay motionless on the floor of Anaheim Stadium. He had been knocked unconscious during an unsuccessful attempt at a fast triple-jump while chasing Jeff Ward for the lead in the main event; and for a few long, agonizing moments, not a single one of the 70,000-plus in attendance knew whether or not Johnson had just superseded Bailey as motocross racing's newest inductee into the wheelchair club.
As I sat there with my eyes riveted on Johnson’s limp body, wondering if it would ever again move under its
own power, I couldn’t help thinking about that editorial. “My God,” I remember saying to an equally stunned Camron Bussard sitting next to me, “I know I was right about doublejumps, but . . . Bailey?. . . Johnson? I don’t want to be right that badly!”
Miraculously, Johnson was not seriously hurt. He regained consciousness while being carried off the track, having suffered only a concussion; and although he had been badly shaken and thoroughly bruised, he sustained no disabling injuries. The most talented motocross rider in America—perhaps in the world — would race again another day soon.
I breathed a sigh of relief when Johnson’s condition was announced to the Anaheim crowd. But as many of them stood and applauded the good news, it dawned on me that I actually had not been right about double-jumps. In that March editorial, I had said that doubles and triples make sense in Supercross, because they provide necessary action on a track built within the tight confines of a football stadium. The implication was that, since they are experienced professionals who know the dangers of the sport, it’s alright for Supercross riders to risk permanent disability on doubleand triplejumps.
I was wrong to say or imply anything of the sort. I now firmly believe that doubleand triple-jumps should either be abolished at all levels of racing, or permitted only when designed in such a manner that they minimize the danger for riders who do not successfully complete them. And for evidence to support my contention, I only need cite the tragedy of David Bailey and the near-tragedy of Ricky Johnson. If such disasters can befall the sport’s two finest riders, how can the thousands of mere mortals who race motocross face double-jumps on a regular basis and hope to emerge unscathed?
There’s plenty of precedence for such a move. In Europe, doublejumps have been banned in all FIMsanctioned motocross events. And it’s common practice in all types of racing to outlaw anything that poses an unreasonable danger for a sport that already is dangerous enough. The greater part of most racing rulebooks, in fact, is dedicated to the creation and maintenance of a relatively safe environment for the competitors, even if that environment compromises the level of excitement for the spectators. Besides, I’d like to believe that motorcycle racing has risen above a lions-versus-Christians mentality, that its continued survival as a spectator sport does not hinge on the prospect of its participants getting maimed at any moment.
But there’s more at stake here than just whether or not the fans get an exciting show. This issue of doublejumps is like a pile of oily rags waiting for a spark, and their ignition could forever alter the destiny of the sport. It won’t take many claims for permanently crippling or paralyzing injuries before insurance companies stop underwriting Supercross events. Then it won’t just be the “excitement” of doubleand triple-jumps that will be lost; the entire sport of Supercross will be in jeopardy. And because insurance companies are not likely to perceive any difference between indoor and outdoor racing, all types of motocross could conceivably be threatened.
If I’m wrong about this, if doubleand triple-jumps continue to be part of Supercross and prove not to be excessively dangerous, nobody will be happier than I’ll be. If and when that happens, I’ll be glad to climb back up on this soapbox and openly admit that I was wrong, that I engaged my mouth before putting my brain in gear. Because this is one time when the last thing in the world I want is to be proven right. —Paul Dean