Funny you mention this.
When I was a young lad, attending Cabot HS, there was a punk kid who was in my same class. He had a (insert overly powerful and inappropriate for a 17 year old kid motorcycle here) crotch rocket. One day, as he was showing off, he did a wheelie in the school parking lot then accelerated hard. A truck stopped short in front of him. He rear-ended the truck, slid up on his tank, ruptured both of his testicles, then flew over the bike into the bed of the truck. He survived. Well, mostly.
It was at that point where I actually insisted that I wouldn't ride a motorcycle. It was only after 15 years of seeing others ride responsibly that I changed my mind.
You’re familiar with Bill Foster Rd. At 4PM in the evening there are three guys on sports bikes that fly down this road passing multiple cars at one time and cut back in the lane (cutting off vehicles) just in time to avoid a head on with oncoming traffic. It’s only a matter of time before one of them isn't with us anymore. They are with one of the local clubs.