The Spin this week comes from York, where Chris Woakes and I sat down on Monday evening to discuss his new autobiography, The Wizard. There were just shy of 400 international wickets on stage, not a single one mine, and an audience that happened to include one of his old teachers.

It turns out a seemingly clean-cut cricketer was something of a rebel back in the day, with Mr Wager reminding Chris of the time he feigned illness to bunk off school for a long weekend in Newquay with his mates. A bit like Warwickshire’s title win this year that anecdote came too late, frustratingly, for the hardback edition.

Still, there is a fair bit packed in, as you would expect from a 14-year England career that saw him overcome early doubts – and some pretty harsh judgments – to experience some dizzying heights. Moeen Ali called him the “best teammate you could wish for”, and the same goes when collaborating on a book.

We first properly crossed paths in 2016. I had just moved to Birmingham, Chris was newly recalled to the England Test squad, and after an interview before a day’s play at Edgbaston, I sheepishly requested a second attempt at stumps. Chris had whistled up a career-best nine for 36 in between, rather torching my first draft and hinting at what would become his breakthrough summer in Test cricket.

The idea for a book came up around three years ago, but it took a while to come to fruition. A three-format all-rounder with an Indian Premier League deal and two young children tends not to be flush with spare time. A central contract also meant being subject to England’s red pen. Best to wait until that was no longer the case.

Chris already had a great story to tell at that point though, as a state-school-educated, one-club man who, among other things, became a two-time World Cup winner. He had also rescued Bazball’s bacon that summer, collecting the Compton-Miller medal as player of the series in the 2023 Ashes.

Although neither of us could have predicted the spark that turned the idea into reality: that final morning at the Oval last year when Chris walked out to bat as a one-armed No 11. Through David Luxton, a leading literary agent, and with interest piqued by that dramatic finale, we met our excellent publishers at Michael Joseph.

Ghostwriting is nothing new in the world of autobiographies. But being a first-timer meant seeking the advice of some press-box colleagues – even if I already knew the brief was to include as little of me and as much of him as possible.

Without naming names I had also heard the odd horror story of sportspeople giving their ghostwriter a mere handful of hours, leaving yawning gaps to be filled with poetic licence. Apparently some subjects do not even read what comes out the other end, happy for their agent to sign off and cash the cheque. Pah.

It had to be 100% his story and, just as importantly, his voice the one telling it. My role was to pull at threads from the past, check that memory had not played tricks, and then chisel out the words for him to read back and tweak. Much like his cricket, Chris was meticulous.

After settling on a structure – starting with the Oval, before looping back for a semi-chronological timeline pegged around themes – we spent the best part of three months either speaking or meeting up semi-regularly. Cafes, the odd pub, even each other’s front rooms – every chapter involved a lot of talking.

What helped was Chris having excellent recall and being a trustworthy eyewitness to events. His career has also spanned a time of significant change in the game. He made his first-class debut in 2006, when county cricket was a player’s bread and butter and an England cap the ultimate goal. He is winding down in an era when franchise cricket offers varied and lucrative options, although he has continued to put Warwickshire first.

Dressing rooms and coaching styles have also transformed, with Chris starting his England career in Andy Flower’s school of hard knocks and signing off in Brendon McCullum’s school of golf-bro rock. Those contrasting styles were what he needed at the time, he says, as was the homespun clarity of Trevor Bayliss in between.

Then there were the players he played with and against: a roll call of characters who, hopefully, come alive on the page. We revisited the Covid years for a behind-the-scenes look at one of the sport’s most gruelling periods and delved into the perennial issue of his stellar home record compared with his struggles on the road. His wife, Amie, contributed a chapter about life off the field.

No question, the toughest chapter came in revisiting the loss of his father, Roger, in 2024 – the awful feeling of waking up in a hotel room overseas to a string of missed calls and knowing it was bad news. Going back to that morning, and how Roger shaped his life and cricket, brought a fair few tears.

I wrote up that passage after a day’s play at Lord’s later that week and shut the laptop before bed, only to wake up the next day to a similar set of missed calls and the news that my father, Bill, had passed away overnight. Beyond the immediate pain and sense of loss, the timing made the whole thing so eerie.

Nothing quite prepares you for it. Very little can help. My summer was a bit of a struggle thereafter. But Chris had my back in the days and weeks that followed, taking it upon himself to secure a small deadline extension for the book, driving down to south Brum to take me out for a beer, and checking in on me regularly.

One of the points Chris makes in The Wizard is his unease at being labelled “the nicest man in cricket”, believing it undersells the drive and inner steel that made him such a competitor on the field. It is a fair point. Over the course of writing the book, though, I learned the two things are not mutually exclusive.

The Wizard by Chris Woakes is published by Penguin Books, £25. To support the Guardian, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply

Stat of the week

India’s Sanju Samson has hit 41 T20 international sixes in 2026, the last coming against West Indies in Hyderabad. The total is a record for number of T20 international sixes in a calendar year for a wicketkeeper.

Quote of the week

I do believe that primarily the national team should be coached by a national representative” – New Zealander Stephen Fleming hopes his time as England’s Test coach will make similar overseas appointments a thing of the past.

Memory lane

31 October 1987 | Chetan Sharma of India recorded the first hat-trick in a World Cup, clean bowling New Zealand’s Ken Rutherford, Ian Smith and Ewen Chatfield in the 42nd over of a group match India would win by nine wickets.

Still want more?

• ‘We had won a World Cup for heaven’s sake’: In an extract from his new book, Chris Woakes on the curfew that killed England’s party.

• Pakistan’s Minhas Arafat scored 59 then tore through England’s lower order in the tri-series opener for Harry Brook’s side. Taha Hashim has the details.

• Does cricket need its own version of football’s Ballon d’Or? Taha Hashim investigates.

• And a captain’s knock by Temba Bavuma for South Africa has Australia on the back foot in the second Test in Durban, writes Geoff Lemon.