The Book of Evel is like the Bible. It is a testament to the power and glory, and a catalogue of punishment, pain and disaster.

In the Book of Evel there are numbered over 35 broken bones; nine major open-reduction operations featuring surgeons bolting and welding Evel's fractured frame to steel plates; countless concussions; snapped tendons, ripped ligaments, dislocations, massive organ damage; life support machines huffing, red beeping lights, miles of cold fluorescent hallways; enough
x-rays to blind the Hubble telescope; enough transfusions to overflow the Snake River, including the batch that poisoned his blood with a deadly virus; a hip replacement operation; a liver transplant; and a total of three and a half years spent inching his way back to life in hospital beds.

Beseiged by disease, Evel's regenerative superpowers lay dormant for 20 years. What a fresh, thriving liver has done for Evel is to kick them back into overdrive. And that has reactivated the most central vital sign of them all: the visionary disregard for personal safety that makes him Evel Knievel.

Evel wants to jump his motorcycle again. And if there's one thing his friends all know, it's when Evel sets his mind, there's nothing that can stop him.

Gentlemen, if the object of Operation Evel was to restore to active duty the greatest, most charismatic motorcycle daredevil in history, then the operation is a success.