It is not just that Andrew Flintoff bowls like the wind, strikes the ball as cleanly as anyone and catches safely wherever he fields. There is also an unstoppable life force about this giant too; a bristling get-up-and-go and a humour that makes him admired whatever impossible task he is attempting.
He is due to return to the England side against South Africa at Leeds for the second Test. I say due, but that is foolishness.
Why would the selectors bring back the best all-rounder in the world and then have his only worry to arrange glasses neatly on a tray and to remember to have a towel nearby lest some fast bowler needs to remove the sweat from his brow.
Flintoff — Freddie if you are one of his familiars, a loving spectator or a tabloid journalist — is such a massive man at 6ft 5in, perhaps 16st and giving the impression that he and barn doors have much in common.
He is the cynosure of all eyes; his waves make huge noises wherever he is.
His pal — they are neighbours in the posh parts of Cheshire, they and their families dine together, they are both in truth Lancashire lads, with similar accents and attitudes — Michael Vaughan, the England captain, reminded us after the Lord’s Test earlier this week that Flintoff was not a wizard. Why he chose to say that is anyone’s guess for Freddie is a magic man.
He has already forced the South Africans, reinvigorated by their long defensive retreat at Lord’s to admit that they talk about him all the time in their dressing room.
We were a bit surprised he did not play at Lord’s, said the coach Mickey Arthur. He is such a formidable cricketer.
Flintoff will take the place of Paul Collingwood. It is a like-for-like replacement; but it is not Mighty Joe Young in for King Kong.
Flintoff has been building up for this moment with Lancashire, taking wickets and catches, hitting sixes while Collingwood has been bowling slower and slower, failing with the bat and, worst of all, looking down in the mouth.
Don’t blame him. He wakes every morning to headlines which announce the return of Flintoff and he retires every night with the memory of yet another wretched day at the crease.
Collingwood has been a fine player for England with half a dozen miraculous catches in the gully or thereabouts, competent bowling and a double hundred not to mention an average in the forties. But he is no Flintoff. Who is? And unless Flintoff finds another tweaked muscle or cracked bone there is only one winner between the two in a complete cricketer competition.
South Africa may have to find a replacement for Neil McKenzie who strained his groin batting for almost 10 hours at Lord’s.
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