SURELY no sane, sensible man would volunteer to be the target of a knife-throwing act.
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So why was I leaning against a board, arms crossed over my chest like a corpse, with a large South American man I'd only just met throwing large blades at me from a very short distance away?
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. I had told the manager of the Great Moscow Circus I wanted to take part in an act, in or out of the ring, to get a feel for life as a circus entertainer.
I'm not good with heights so I didn't fancy aerial acts but I could see myself being made up as a clown, or trying my hand at juggling or helping in a magic trick. However, fate had something else in store.
I must admit I was relieved when the first possibility - standing in the Globe of Death - fell through. Being in a small, round, wire cage while one, two, three, four and then five motorcycles whizzed around me did not seem enticing.
But then came the alternative and I didn't have much time to think about it, which was probably just as well. But I still felt like a condemned man as I made my way to the board and was told to keep very, very still as Alfredo Silva got into position. My body tensed and I waited, hoping his hand was steady, his aim was true. And then came the first knife …
■ Find out what happened next in today's RELAX magazine.