All down my left leg, hip and arm.

My own fault.

United have a training ground out at Carrington in the country the other side of Manchester and there is a private road I often ride as a cut through, with a barrier and bored security guy in a cabin each end. In other times there would be a gaggle of fans waiting to wave at players and their cars.

I am bowling along the empty road looking at the empty complex, how impressive it Is deserted in this almost like summer sun and forget about the nasty thin rubber speed bumps until I am looking at my front wheel up in my face pointing 45 degrees and I am in that little moment you have to think, This is a bad one, there is no way I am not going down.

The next thing I am thinking of course is, Did anyone see that? The answer: nobody but the CCTV and the security guys in their huts pissing themselves. I know the routine, get up, check yourself, don’t try and pull any stones out of the cuts, keep moving before you stiffen up, straighten anything that is bent, get back on and marvel at how bright your blood is. This time is slightly complicated because somehow the chain is looped in that way it is impossible to straighten, well impossible until you have taken the wheel off, got your hands covered in oil and stiffened up a little more.

But I work it out, put the wheel back on and ride to the other end, where, they never usually do this, but the guy in the hut raises the barrier as I approach, smiles and waves me through as if I am Bruno Fernandes.




Also by Steve,