Ian Stafford Angry Bull

Less than 48 hours after leaving Silverstone (it took just the 2 hours to drive away from the car park) I found myself confronted by an angry bull in Pamplona. For the second year I had gone to run with the bulls but this time I told my family I wouldn’t get in any scrapes. As it turned out, “scrape” was under-playing it. I’d just been advising a newcomer how to avoid being hit when the bull suddenly turned 180 degrees and stared at me from ten feet away. I did the right thing by standing rigidly still, but only because I was frozen to the spot. Instead of charging he ambled up, dipped his shoulder and barged me. His horn caught my watch, which flew off my wrist, and I crashed to the ground, cutting both knees, both elbows, my left wrist and my right shoulder. Any chance of me keeping this quiet was stymied by the little matter that it made front page news in the Spanish newspapers and on Spanish TV. Bloody press. Now I know how Lewis feels!