Have you ever seen a television show where the hero is injured, laying on his back in an emergency room, looking up at four or five faces staring down at him, doctors, relatives, nurses? That's what my Daytona was like this year.

I was a little nervous going in to Daytona this year, I assume because of my bicycle crash injury. I wasn't sure what I was going to be able to do or not do but things were going okay right up until Wednesday morning practice where, coming out of the first horseshoe, the bike spit me off in a nasty highside and then followed me in and landed on me. I guess the bike was on top of me for most of the crash and to make matters worse one of the footpegs stuck me hard in the kneecap. I was knocked completely out in the crash, something that has never happened to me before.

I woke up in the infield care center with the aforementioned multiple faces looking down at me and I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. I guess I was saying some pretty crazy things while I was coming to, but once I got ahold of myself I didn't say anything. All short term memory had disappeared; I didn't know if I had been in a car accident or what. I kept looking around the room, looking for clues as to what happened and didn't see much. I guess they had cut my leathers off me and I was laying there in just my underwear. That's when I knew I had crashed at a race-I looked down and saw that I was wearing my favorite riding underwear.

I'm sure the people at Halifax (hospital) are good people and mean well, but I somehow ended up with the nurse from hell when I was in the ER. I suppose she had seen one too many bike accidents over the course of Bike Week and she just laid into me about how dangerous bikes are and how I should find another "hobby" and kept asking me if I wanted a tour of the really bad sections of the hospital where they keep the bad head injury victims and boys who have been messed up bad in ugly streetbike crashes, without helmets I assume. I opened my mouth to give her the why for, but they were still putting my knee together at that point so I just closed my mouth and had to sit there and endure it. They had a heck of a time trying to figure out which of my injuries were new from the Daytona crash or were old from the bicycle crash.

I ended up getting stitches in my knee and a CAT Scan on my head. The scan showed no damage so I live to fight again as they say. The nurse was still going on about how I needed to find a new "hobby" and stop racing bikes and that I seemed pretty bright, that I should quit this and just go to college and then get a real job. As she was finishing up my knee she asked if I would like to take a tour of the hospital and I said no, that I needed to get back to the track as I was going to try and make practice that afternoon. She just stared at me and shook her head, then walked away.

We went back to the track and it started raining so practice was cancelled, which gave me a day to heal up and get ready. I really felt okay later that afternoon, and was hopeful that my age and physical conditioning would keep the pain and stiffness at a manageable level for the rest of the week. I went to bed hopeful and woke up the next morning feeling like I had gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. It was agony. But, honestly, riding was easier than walking at this point so the riding part went better than I expected. I could feel the stitches in my knee popping out on the first few corners but after that it wasn't terrible.

In the 1000 race I actually went okay for it being a week I'd largely like to just forget about in terms of my racing career. I was running in fifth place towards the end, and might have been able to work myself into a podium if the guys in front of me caught lapped traffic the wrong way, but just a few laps from the end the front end of the bike developed a huge vibration and I had to back off, finishing eleventh. It was ugly, especially with the way we started off at Daytona the year before, running so strong in the 1000 class. I felt so bad for my mechanics because they had worked so hard.

The 600 race was next up and I was really ready to get a good result. I knew that the start would be important and of course I got about the worst start of my life, I must have been staring at some umbrella girl too long because I was in back of riders who were gridded two rows behind me. I worked my way to the front-the bike is fast-and by lap eight I was on Tom's back wheel and hoping for the best. I wasn't just sitting there on his back wheel, waiting, I was barely hanging on at that point, just riding as hard as I could to keep that position. We started lapping traffic on lap eight. I was incredulous when I saw lappers on lap eight of a 22 lap race.

There were some few low-hanging heads around my side of the Kawasaki tent that night, for sure. Eleventh and 21st was not the way we wanted to start the season. I've got a good group of guys behind me, and we win together, and we get beat together, and that's the way it is. I know we're going to keep fighting and see what we can do. But definitely, Daytona was a week to forget.

I've been a fan of the 200 since I was a little kid. I went there and watched Scott Russell win the race when I was still in grade school, so I've always liked the strategy and process of the race. Well, there wasn't much strategy this year in the Daytona 200, that's for sure. It was like watching the Yankees take on a bunch of high school kids. Honda just dominated the event and that really didn't sit well with me at all. I watched it until I could not take it any more, thought I was going to fall asleep and miss my flight, then I left in the middle of the race. There was a huge traffic jam in the middle of the race, with all kinds of people trying to leave. I'm only 21 and I have to consider the future of this sport here in America. When you see a huge line of cars leaving in the middle of what is supposed to be the biggest US race of the year, you wonder if you're racing the right series. Enough said, as they say.

I spent the next few weeks trying to train and heal up from my assorted injuries. I'm actually feeling okay now. I can go in and train at a pretty high level and although I haven't touched my motocross bikes, I feel we'll be okay at Barber. My testing has never been the best-I'm not a great tester, but testing this year has been a struggle. I hope for better results at Barber this weekend.

I did mow my lawn after Daytona and have been doing a bit of work on my house, trying to keep it nice. I remember when we were kids, my mom would just about have to threaten us with the whip in order to get us to rake leaves; now I jump out of bed and I'm out there raking leaves, sweeping the sidewalk and things like that. It's amazing what a change of perspective you can have if you're paying for the place. I have not yet bought a lawn mower-I'm borrowing all of my parents yard tools, so Pops, if you're reading this and wondering where the riding mower is ...

The first Grand Prix of the year was a kick; I just wished it had ended better for brother Nick. That last corner move by Rossi has given everybody something to talk about. I'm in the minority, I guess, I don't think Sete left too much room open and Rossi got through. I think Rossi was out of control to a degree and would not have made the corner if he hadn't used Sete as a berm. I thought Sete handled it better than any rider in the world, really; I expected someone to come away from that deal with a black eye and it wasn't going to be Sete. But he was cool and calm, all in all. I was pretty impressed because you've got to know he was seeing red under the helmet.

Like I said, I wish it had gone better for Nick. It sucks for him because I think some people in the press doubt him. I know what it's like when you're faced with people who don't believe in you. When you're winning you have so many friends and supporters you can't count them all. But when you're off the podium for a few races then you can't find a friend with a flashlight. I know how hard he works and that he'll be back in the front soon.

I'm off to Barber in a few hours. My hope is for good weather and good luck.
(Roger's first column is here.)