George Clooney Crashed His Motorcycle So Bad That His Head Went Through An Oncoming Car's Windshield

Source -  George Clooney’s motorbike crashed into a Mercedes car driven by a local man in his sixties on Tuesday morning, causing the actor to be hospitalised.

A source told MailOnline the US star, 57, was riding his scooter from his house in Puntaldia, Sardinia, to the set of his new Hulu TV series, Catch 22, which is in Capo Ceraso, in Olbia, when the accident occured.

George was at the intersection of Costa Corallina, a tourist village with a private harbour, when he got hit by the car as it turned left to enter the village.

The source added that George hit the windshield with his head and fell to the ground at around 7am, where he was quickly treated on the road.

Fortunately the star had a helmet and was not driving very fast,  but the windscreen was badly smashed. 

George was then taken to nearby John Paul II hospital, where the doctors performed a CT scan.

He had no fractures, but he did have trauma to the pelvis, hip and knee which should take around 20 days to heal.

**Check out the pictures of the crash HERE. HERE. HERE.

As someone who’s crashed multiple motorcycles I can confidently say that with the exception of the Thai-cave-boys, George Clooney is the luckiest man alive. Anytime you lead with your head you’re flirting with death. The craziest part about crashing a motorcycle is it doesn’t matter whether you’re going seven miles per hour or one-hundred-seven miles per hour, you can never predict how bad the crash is going to be. It depends on what you’re wearing, how you fall, the weather, the way you release the clutch/gas, if you roll or slide, the timing of your bail – the list goes on and on. Speed is almost never a factor. So to see his head make that big of a dent traveling at that low of a speed is both terrifying and relatable.

The first time I crashed my motorcycle was in the parking lot of my local hockey rink. I was barely moving, hit a patch of sand and absolutely annihilated my hands. I remember looking down and being confused as to how they got so cut up. They were covered in blood and gravel. On the ride home the breeze from the wind spread the blood up my arms so it looked like I had Guy Fieri’s shirt tattooed on my arms.

The second time I was going about thirty, only this time I was in full protective gear and it was wet out. I went around a corner, the bike slid out from under me, and I slid with it. Fifty feet later I popped up, grabbed the bike and continued riding. It was scary but I was fine. I gave up the motorcycle shortly thereafter and haven’t ridden since. I want to ride again but at the same time I realize that if I did, it’d only be a matter of time until I was dead. Going fast is too fun and I’m too lazy to put on all the protective gear.

What I’m trying to say is that George should be thankful he didn’t break his neck. Although maybe he would’ve preferred that to being seen riding the motorcycle equivalent to a Prius. Then again, if I had a supermodel genius for a wife, a billion dollars in the bank, and a sprawling Italian villa I probably wouldn’t care either.