Sportsmen's "autobiographies" are usually fairly bland affairs. The odd little anecdote, the occasional insight on other players, the "I was there" revelation on moment's of mediocre sporting history...
"Fiery Fred" Trueman was never your bland cricketer though - constantly at odds with the cricket establishment, whether it was with the committee of his "beloved Yorkshire" or the "stuffed shirts at the MCC", he had a public persona of being slightly belligerent, a little supercilious, more than a bit self-opinionated and a tad insensitive.
In the first few pages he's anything but this when he describes the south Yorkshire countryside of his upbringing in language that even Wordsworth at his Pantheistic best would blush at. The unseen hand of the silent ghostwriter is apparent from the very start...
And as you continue through the book, you begin to wonder whether the ghostwriter is deliberately trying to stitch poor Fred up - because the arrogance, belligerence, superciliousness and self opinionation grwos page on page - "I really don't know it all - because I know everything, and one of those things is that I'm not a know-it-all" is almost crying out form every page twoards the end.
Fred Trueman was a great bowler - there is no doubt about that. But he wasn't quite as great as this book would have us believe - and you do get the sense that there's an unseen hand at work subtly making this point to us. I wonder if the invisible spirit had a father who was a Yorkshire committeeman.....
An interesting read though, especially for those who enjoy recalling cricket history from the 1940's to the 1960's.