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COPYRIGHT 2002 The Spectator Ltd. (UK)
Woken in the night by strange noises recently, a friend of my son-in-law left his sleeping wife and baby and went downstairs. As he switched on the light he found himself confronted by a large gent who would not have looked out of place in the ring with Lennox Lewis. Showing admirable sangfroid, the householder told him: `Just take what you want and get out,' only to receive the rather pained reply, `I'm trying to find a way out.' He had to lead him to the front door and unlock it.
After an iffy afternoon I, too, was struggling to find a way out in the seventh and final race at Folkestone on a wet December Tuesday when I encountered the ever-friendly Noel Chance. As readers of Tony McCoy's autobiography will learn, the Lambourn trainer is not a man with whom the media should play poker....
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