Yesterday afternoon, after Roger Lee Hayden finished explaining what had happened to him in his recent bicycle crash, I asked him the big question:
Okay, really, I wondered, how bad is it?
I've been around this game for a while. I've seen some horrific skin abrasions in my day; I once sat in the next exam room over as the ... gentle nurses ... at Brainerd's own St. Joe's hospital cleaned the asphalt out of a fellow injured racer's abraded back using a wire brush (yes, really). That man's screams used to haunt me, but I digress.
"Are you near you computer?" Hayden asked.
"I'm awake," I answered sarcastically ...
"Check your e-mail," Hayden said. "Nick took some pictures of me while my crew chief's wife was changing my bandages."
I punched send/recieve and RLH's e-mail dropped into my in-box. I opened the attached picture, swallowed hard and spoke.
"Whoa," I said.
"Yeah," Hayden replied. "It ain't no joke."