This book by Andrew Flintoff is not the kind of thing I’d normally read but I received it as a Christmas present I thought I might as well give it a try. Because of lockdown, I only received the book relatively recently and lockdown is one of the things occupying Flintoff’s mind in this book. Part rant, part stream of consciousness, part philosophical delve, part meandering waffling, part nostalgic binge, the book is an entertaining romp through a range of subjects. You can’t help warming to Flintoff. At times I found myself laughing out loud and nodding my head at his words - and the book actually reads as if he just recorded his stream of thought on a digital recorder ready for an editor to transcribe. I wonder whether that’s how he ‘wrote’ it? Anyway, despite not being my usual reading of choice, I’m glad I picked it up and read it.