I was 22, walking the country roads near Disley, Cheshire when I was hit from behind by a Lancia. Legs were hyper-extended (bent the wrong way), hit the bonnet (hood), the windscreen and bounced over the top. I ended standing up behind the car wondering what the feck had happened.
The front of the car was caved in - bumper, grille, there were cheek marks on the bonnet (hood) and a broken windscreen. We exchanged particulars. I went to the pub for a drink, and then to Old Trafford to watch United play Stoke City. Standing still for 45 minutes and the shock must have worn off, my right knee blew up, and I was taken out of Old Trafford in an ambulance. At hospital I was told I had blown my ACL.
In the meantime the guy had gone to my home and told my dad - "Look what your son did to my car."
Got home after a long day to find the cops there wondering what the hell had happened to me. I hear that my dad grabbed him, frog marched him into the house and made him sit there whole the cops came.
I had an interesting conversation with my dad. The guy, presumably got nailed, but I never heard any more about it.
25 years later, if there's one thing I regret it's getting hit from behind like that. Thank feck it was an Italian car
