Evel

We lost a legend the other day in Evel Knievel. For a kid who grew up in the 70's, there was no one cooler than Mr. Knievel. He had the look, the swagger and the balls to be the hero of every male on the planet. I watched every one of his stunts on TV and had every Evel Knievel toy on the market. I was also damn lucky never to have cracked my spine jumping homemade ramps on my bicycle.

And I even got to meet him once...almost. I was seven years old and my old man was able to get us onto the guest list at a Kenny Stabler roast here in B-ham. I met and got photos with Stabler, Irv Cross and several other athletes and celebrities. But I almost pissed my pants when I saw the one and only Evel Knievel sitting by himself at the bar having a drink(s). My dad got someone to walk over and ask for me to meet him and have a photo op. He raised his head, looked over at me and gave a backhanded wave with his right hand as if to say, "Get the fuck away from me - I'm having a Goddamn drink." You'd think that I would've been devastated. While there was certainly a feeling of disappointment, I couldn't help but think that his reaction was, in a way, actually cooler than if he had been like Santa Claus, laughing and lifting me onto his lap. In the same way that Clint Eastwood's son of a bitch attitude enhanced his aura, I gotta think that Evel's actions that night had the same effect. He was simply one badass motherfucker, and I'll miss him.