The longer you're a racing fan, the more things you've seen. That goes for any series that you follow seriously. The highs are incredible; unbelievable passes, daring saves, feats of fine motor control and speed that you have to roll back and watch over and over again, just because you're not entirely sure you saw what you thought you saw.
And the lows, well. The lows are, quite frankly, horrifying. That's why I've never understood the ghoulish mentality of folks who watch races and actively hope for carnage, because there's a real person inside each racing suit. Just because a racer suited up to go as fast as they possibly could around a track, it usually doesn't mean that they want to die.
Acknowledging the risk is not the same as a want. If you're a racing fan, I'm not telling you anything that you don't already know. But sometimes, it's a very difficult thing to explain to non-racing fans.
I hadn't gotten into motorcycle racing back when Daijiro Kato left us, but words like "generational talent" and thoughts like "I would've loved to have seen him race against Rossi in his prime" are common things to see if you read up on his all-too-brief career. But I'll never, ever forget the MotoGP race at Sepang in 2011, when we lost Marco Simoncelli.
Once you see something like that, if you have a heart, you can't forget it. I obviously can't tell you what to do, but I can't in good conscience advise you to go watch any videos. And that's simply as a racing fan, not as a person with a direct and personal connection to either racer or their families.
Which then leads you to ask, can something good come out of something so horrible? Sometimes, it can. While you can never replace the one-of-a-kind person who's gone, the entire point of Japan's Daijiro Cup is fostering up-and-coming young talent so they can gain experience and move up through the ranks of racing.
Kids (and their parents, obviously) participate using a very special two-stroke, 40cc pocket bike called the 74Daijiro, gaining skills and experience in pocket-bike form and having fun while doing it. I'm sure if you've been watching MotoGP lately, you're familiar with the amazing Ai Ogura. Back when he was very small, he came up through the Daijiro Cup way back at the beginning of his racing career.
It's been over 20 years since Kato's untimely death at Suzuka, but his memory and his legacy still live on, not only in vintage racing footage but also as a vital part of fostering the future of racing. Honestly, that's kind of incredible, and is one of the many reasons I love this sport.
