The death of Evel

OK, he was only a daredevil. But, the headline was hard to resist.

There will have to be a nominal cause recorded on the death certificate of Robert Craig "Evel" Knievel, who died on Friday aged 69, but it is unlikely to be as complete as it should. There isn't the space. So, unencumbered by the restraints of US form-filling, here is what should be there: diabetes, pulmonary fibrosis, two strokes, hepatitis C, a hip replacement, arthritis, liver transplant, 38 formerly shattered bones, including a seven-times-broken back, twice-crushed pelvis and frequently fractured legs, plus several comas, one lasting 29 days.

It's plain, therefore, that to call Evel Knievel a stuntman is not really correct. He was, in reality, a highly paid accident victim – and not just when he was astride, or falling off, a motorcycle. The capacity to attract trouble tracked him like a sniffer dog throughout his days. This, then, is his story, the little boy from Butte, Montana, to whom stuff – lucky stuff, unlucky stuff, even weird stuff – just kept happening.

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There is much, much more. British obits are an art form and occasionally they are about someone you might have heard of. I was not a big fan of Evel, but you could not avoid hearing about his exploits/crashes. It is a testament to modern medicine and a will to survive that he survived them to die at the age of 69.