https://www.motorcycle.com/bikes/features/rip-evans-brasfield-44594668
Evans Brasfield became my editor at Motorcycle.com in 2018 upon the unfortunate departure of Kevin Duke to parts unknown, one of the radical staff reductions-in-force that have plagued industry publications during the past decade. I had read some of Evans’ work and was familiar with him by name only. He continued as my editor until early this month when MO published my mid-season review of the 2023 MotoGP season.
During these six years, I cannot remember a single time when Evans lost his temper or criticized me for anything undeserving of criticism. He agreed to my stipulation that my work get posted without much, if any, editing by Dennis or anyone else. He did his best to protect me from the Verticalscope suits in Toronto. He gave me utterly manageable deadlines and was entirely supportive of my efforts to enhance MO’s coverage of racing. He had clearly forgotten more than I ever knew about motorcycles, but was tolerant of my ignorance and complimentary of my writing style or lack thereof. He managed to get me paid out of a freelance budget that had shrunken dramatically. He was able to answer to his own corporate masters and the interminable bean counters without making me feel worthless. In short, he was every freelance writer’s dream editor.
Since 2008 when I took my first stab at covering MotoGP, I have reported to Joe Magro, Sean Alexander, Kevin Duke, John Burns (briefly) and Evans. I pitched Joe on allowing me to assume the role of MotoGP Correspondent before I had actually watched my first race. (When he asked me if I was a rider, I said yes because I thought he had said “writer.”) Throughout the years, my editors at MO have supported my efforts despite my being an old Hoosier who drives cars. They sent me to Malaysia on a junket in 2014, probably because none of the real editors wanted to go sweat their cojones off for a week on the equator, but it was a blast and I got to meet a number of folks in the business–Jensen Beeler, Marie Wilson and David Emmett, to name a few.
To me, Evans’ passing feels like the end of an era. I’ve been at this for 15 years, but am skeptical that it will continue now that my rabbi has left the building. Certainly whoever steps into his job will be looking for someone capable of bringing more to the party than dick jokes and actionable slurs. And even though I was never able to shake Evans’ hand in person, I join with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of riders and writers who will miss his even temper and thoughtful posts. Once again, we are shown the hand of God and are left to shake our heads and mumble about how the good die young. Happy trails, Mr. Brasfield.
Late-Braking MotoGP 