Shane Byrne - Unshakeable

Shane Shakey Byrne is the most successful rider in the history of the British Superbike Championship, boasting an unprecedented six titles and almost one hundred career victories a record that promises to remain unbroken for many years to come. A World Superbike race winner and former MotoGP World Championship contender, his army of loyal fans are testament to his reputation as one of the most celebrated British motorcycle racers of his generation. Away from the racetrack, Shane is a dedicated husband to Petra and proud father of Zack and Lilly.

Petra Byrne, June 2018
Isle of Sheppey, Kent, UK

Whenever Shane is riding and Im not there, I try to find a quiet spot to watch the live timing app on my phone. With the kids at school and Shane at Snetterton for a one-day test, the house was silent. Just after ten oclock, the peace was interrupted by my phone.

Ping!

A text from Shane.

Im just changing in the back of the van.

I love you, speak to you later.

The session was due to start at ten minutes past, so I put some washing in the machine, made myself a coffee and I was just sitting down at the kitchen table when my phone beeped again. Another text. This time from a friend who works in the British Superbike paddock.

Is he OK?

What is she on about?

Is who okay?

Shakey. Ive just seen he crashed.

How can he have crashed? The session has literally only just started... I refreshed the live timing page and saw the red flag icon in the top corner of the screen. My heart sank through my chest.

I flicked the app closed with my thumb and rang Shanes crew chief. Giovanni would know exactly what was going on. It rang and rang and eventually went to his voicemail. I tried Stuart Higgs, the race director... no answer. I rang everybody in the team, anybody I knew that might be there at Snetterton, but not one single person picked up. Nobody.

Normally if Shane has crashed and theres a red flag somebody would answer straight away. They would know I was watching and would probably be panicking. Dont worry, hes OK. Id heard those words so many times. But not this time. Not for forty-five minutes.

I sat at my kitchen table going absolutely crazy. I dont know how many times I must have tried Stuart but he ignored every call. I was shivering, feeling sick. It was the longest forty-five minutes of my life. Eventually, I ran to the kitchen sink and threw up. I had a really bad feeling.

Then, finally, my phone rang.

Hes fine, said Stuart dismissively.

Really? So why did it take so long?

Sorry, it was a bit busy here but hes fine. Hes talking to the medics, he looks OK but he has suspected broken ribs.

I can never forget how cold his words sounded, but still I breathed a big sigh of relief.

So... I guess theyre going to take him to hospital for the broken ribs then?

Yes, I think theyre going to take him to the medical centre first.

He sounded vague. The medical centre? This was forty-five minutes after the crash. Forty-five minutes, nobody has answered my calls, and hes only just going to the circuit medical centre? The last time Shane had a crash and was taken to hospital he called me from the helicopter on the way there. The guy is superglued to his phone. Something wasnt right. I packed a bag of Shanes clothes and called the kids school to tell them I would be picking them up early.

I must have been in a panic, because all I could think was, I need to take his socks and shoes. I remember tucking his socks inside his shoes and making a conscious effort to pack some pants, because thats the one thing I normally forget. I was talking to myself, trying to think of anything but what might have happened to my husband.

The kids came running out of the school gates and jumped in the car.

Whats happened, Mum?

Nothing, I replied, trying to sound relaxed. Were just going to have a road trip.

A road trip to where?

To Snetterton.

Yay! Were going to see Daddy! But why are we going in our school uniforms?

I dont know, I thought wed just go as a surprise.

I didnt want to tell them. I didnt know what to tell them. So I just drove.

I was halfway up the A11 when Giovanni finally called me back. All he would tell me was that he had been with Shane the whole time and they were at Norwich and Norfolk University Hospital.

Are you coming quickly? he asked. I could sense something urgent in his voice.

Im coming as quickly as I can. If hes just got broken ribs, Im sure he can wait, cant he?

Just try to get here quickly.

I tried to imagine Shane at Giovannis side, impatient for me to get there, wanting only to go home. Was that too much to wish for?

An hour later Giovanni met me at the door of the accident and emergency department. He was alone. Where is he? I asked, looking over his shoulder.

My eyes met with Giovannis and from the look of them, it was like he knew Shanes career or worse, Shanes mobility could be over. I quickly rushed through things in my head. Surely they wouldnt have sent Giovanni to give me this news, would they? Where was the doctor? Stuart had been so calm on the phone. Maybe he was just trying to make sure I didnt panic?

Hes having a CT scan, Giovanni said. Thats all I know.

OK. Sit down, kids, well have to wait for Daddy.

A little while later some nurses came out to Giovanni and me, but said nothing other than that they just needed more time with Shane, to do some more tests. Then they turned to the children and offered them a picnic. The kids had been as good as gold, but the waiting was torture. Was it a broken leg? A femur maybe? An open fracture? Shane had told me before how bad an injury like that could be. I just didnt know and nobody seemed to want to tell me.

We had been sitting there for an hour when, finally, a smiling face came over and introduced himself as Dr Andrew Cook. I guess I was expecting somebody older he was around Shanes age but he came across looking really happy and confident. I took this as a positive sign and I felt much calmer as he instructed some nurses to clear another area and took me away from Giovanni and the kids to deliver his prognosis. Dr Cook slotted a memory stick into the computer and loads of images popped up. I had no idea what I was looking at. Right, lets start with the easy bits, he said, turning to face me. As it stands at the minute, Shane has broken a lot of ribs. It was just over a week until the next race at Snetterton, and my immediate thought was that there was no way he was going to make it with broken ribs.

Dr Cook continued. Hes also fractured his left collarbone and his sternum. I didnt know what a sternum was in English, so I had to interrupt him to ask. It seemed that with each injury, the severity was getting worse. I hoped he was getting towards the end of his list when he took a deep breath and swung back to his computer. And Im afraid those are the least of your husbands problems.

On the screen there was an image of Shanes spine and, with a pen in his hand, Dr Cook started tapping the screen from the bottom and working his way up, all the way into his neck. This vertebra is fractured, this one is broken, that one is completely crushed. His broken ribs have punctured his lung and the swelling in his neck is making it very difficult for him to breathe. He turned back to face me. In the next twenty-four hours we need to prioritize, so lets concentrate more on his injuries after weve settled him down a bit. The first thing we need to do today is to save your husbands life.