By military standards, MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa is quite small; Fort Hood in Texas is about 37 times larger. But what it lacks in size it more than makes up for in stature. MacDill is the home of USCENTCOM, the military headquarters that directs operations in Iraq and Afghanistan. And it was here on a sunny December day that a former 500cc World Champion came to teach the soldiers who return from their tours how to survive in the real world. Kevin Schwantz stands at the edge of an improvised 500 x 900-foot road course next to an airstrip on a cool December morning wearing a thick coat as he watches soldiers temporarily under his command.
Schwantz brought a truncated version of the Kevin Schwantz School to the base for one very simple reason: he wants to save lives. Despite the military’s best efforts—including readily available Motorcycle Safety Foundation-designed safety programs—injuries and fatalities spiked in 2008 to the point that motorcycle-related fatalities actually surpassed war-related deaths in some months. It was imperative that something be done to move the needle in the opposite direction. Sportbike riders were prevalent in the statistics, fearless young men returning from the battlefront believing they were invincible.
"I think the guys and girls come back and go, 'I just survived war, what’s a motorcycle?’ You’ve got to realize that that thing’s almost as lethal as that weapon you carry when you’re out fighting," he’d said at Valencia in November, when first discussing the school. A study released in the June 2009 issue of the military’s MSMR (Medical Surveillance Monthly Report) reported in part that in 2008, "Of all motorcycle accident-related episodes included in this analysis, approximately one of six resulted in deaths. Across demographic and military subgroups, the highest rates were among Marines, 20- to 24-year-olds, service members in combat-specific occupations."
Mike Russell has seen what Schwantz has only heard about. Russell is a rider coach for the U.S. Special Operations Command. He’s also the program manager and the military coordinator for all of SOC. He built his first motorcycle from scratch at the age of 14 and lived on his motorcycle until he went off to the military. For several years afterwards he rode occasionally until about five years ago when he started teaching. These days Russell coaches 36 MSF-designed courses a year, but today he’s a student aboard his blue Yamaha FZ1 and learning from the best.
"An awful lot of the folks I talked to said they were just absolutely amazed that (Schwantz) would come up to them, and say, 'Hey I noticed that you were doing this on the turn, why don’t you try that?’ That he brought individual attention above and beyond what his instructors were doing to the folks on an individual basis," Russell said. "Or that he was very approachable, very easy to be with, to talk to. And he made himself available to the riders to improve their skills, rather than just signing autographs and getting his picture taken. He really was out there participating in the training. And worked one on one with the students. They were amazed at that, absolutely thought he was great."
Schwantz doesn’t have to work. Suzuki, with the help of sponsors Pepsi and Lucky Strike, paid him handsomely during his Grand Prix years. Of the current riders, only two or three make more than Schwantz did at his peak. So why is he standing near a painted sign warning trespassers, "Use of deadly force is authorized?"