Evel Knievel Rides Again in WWOS Documentary

By Adam Pockross - June 22, 2015

Evel Knievel

As a kid growing up in the ‘80s, outside of G.I. Joe, Evel Knievel was my biggest American hero. How could he not be? With the patriotic leathers, the stars and stripes Harley XR-750, the soaring jumps, the horrific crashes, and the will and determination to get up and do it all over again — what’s more American than that?

To celebrate such patriotism, and to give you inspiration for your own best-in-show 4th of July costume, we happily present the Wide World of Sports documentary below, which dives deeply into the fascinating life of Knievel. It’s packed full of facts and lore about the world’s greatest daredevil, starting from his restless roots in Butte, Montana, where the local police gave him the moniker, Evel. After one to many motorcycle chases ended with his full name, Robert Craig Knievel, written down in the blotter, police finally grew tired of writing it out and shortened it to Evel.

The doc then goes on to cover Evel’s very first time on WWOS, the show that would help make him a household name. Before the Harley, before the red, white, and blue leathers, Evel was part of the pre-race entertainment at a motorcycle race in Gardena, California, which WWOS was covering. The producers wisely cut to Evel, who was attempting to launch his Triumph over 15 cars. Of course, Evel stuck the landing.

Well, perhaps “of course” is the wrong phrase, because Evel didn’t always stick the landings. He probably became more famous for the crashes, like his next big stunt, launching over the new fountains at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, Nevada. “Some say it was this jump that first cemented Evel Knievel’s place in sports history. His crash landing is one of the most vivid slow motion portraits of pain ever captured on film,” says Chris Fowler, the documentary’s narrator.

But it wasn’t the crashes that defined Evel, it was the way he picked himself up. According to Silodrome, Evel still holds the world record for the most broken bones, a jaw dropping 433 fractures! And yet it was a pulmonary disease — not the Grand Canyon, not the Snake River Canyon, not Wembley — that finally took the daredevil down, ’cause he sure wasn’t going to let a motorcycle (or a steam powered “sky cycle”) crash do him in.