Don't think Lew and I will agree on the TT but this article sums up my view very nicely.
Why the Isle of Man TT matters | Canada Moto Guide
The 2017 Isle of Man TT is over. The fans have packed up and headed for the ferry, the race teams have loaded their vans, and the locals can go back to their routine (at least, until the Classic TT later this summer).
Now, it’s time for the naysayers to start their yearly refrain, calling for the TT’s cancellation. They’ll point to the three fatalities at this year’s races, and say it’s time to shut the event down for good.
They’re wrong.
The three racers who died this year are Davey Lambert, a Brit who was killed in a crash in the Superbike race; Jochem van den Hoek, a Dutchman who crashed in the Superstock race; and Irishman Alan Bonner, who died in practice for the Senior TT. None of these men were international roadracing stars, but they had achieved enough competency to earn a spot at the TT, and that in itself is a notable feat.
I don’t wish to belittle the loss of these men, or the grief and pain felt by their friends and families. But, the answer to these tragedies is not to shut down the TT. Instead, let’s look at some numbers.
The Isle of Man’s Snaefell Mountain Course is a very dangerous place. There’s no room for error in many sections, with zero run-off.
According to this document, there have been 255 rider deaths at the Isle of Man’s Mountain Course since 1911 (some sources place total number of fatalities, including course workers and spectators, as high as 270). The first casualty was Victor John Surridge, a member of the long-defunct Rudge factory team. Since then, competitors have died every decade at the Isle of Man TT. Some years see no fatalities, but other years see multiple deaths. The worst year for the TT was 1970, which saw six riders die (in 2005, the Mountain Course saw 11 deaths, including the fatalities from the Manx GP races also held there).
You can’t fudge those numbers. The Mountain Circuit is dangerous at high speed. And yet, riders show up every year to race, many of them repeat visitors. Nobody forces them to come.
Perhaps this year’s most high-profile example is Guy Martin, the working-class street circuit hero who came back to the IOMTT this year after taking 2016 off. Martin’s smashed up badly at the TT before; his fiery 2010 crash is legendary, and he had another bad accident at the Ulster GP in 2015 (a similar event, also run on public roads) that could have ended his career. In fact, he took a few months off, and was considered retired.
Yet, in 2017, Martin was back, racing again. Nobody forced him to come back—in fact, he ended up sitting out the Senior TT, after bike trouble put him off-track earlier in the week; you can’t even blame a big paycheck for his return. Despite being visibly shaken by that crash aboard the Honda superbike, he still managed a second-place finish later in the TT Zero electric motorcycle race. Martin made his own choices, to race or not to race, and lived by them. He’s survived the week to race another year, or not. It’s his decision.
His attitude is best summed up with his famous quote: “”If you think it’s too dangerous then go home and cut your lawn and leave us to it.”
Although it’s a time-honoured tradition and the fans love it, that’s not enough reason to keep the TT alive. We should keep the TT alive because it reminds us of a basic choice we all make: to live with risk, or not to.
The Isle of Man TT shouldn’t continue running simply to honour the memories of dead racers. It shouldn’t be kept alive just because it’s a ripping good set of races. It would be silly to keep it alive because it’s a time-honoured tradition. The best reason to keep it alive is because it’s an embodiment of a choice we all have: To live our lives in a matter we choose, whether or not it makes sense to our neighbours.
The Isle of Man’s Snaefell Mountain Course is a 37.73-mile throwback to times when the world was more dangerous and people lived with much more risk than we do today—and they accepted those risks, partly because they realized we’re all mortal. As Chuck Palahinchuk put it, “On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone will drop to zero.” It’s a grim thought, but everybody’s birth certificate comes with an expiry date.
For some people, the chance to do what they love most and reach a lifelong goal before that day comes, is worth the risk of coming to that day sooner.
After all, isn’t a decision like that how most of us end up motorcycling to start with?