Umpire Harold Bird - ``Dickie`` to friends, players and
aficionados in every cranny of the cricketing commonwealth - has
announced that he will retire after his next Test match.
Fittingly, the game will be played at Lord`s, between England
and India, two sides which still interpret cricket in a
friendly-spirited language. The 22 players on that occasion,
and the spectators at the ground, will doubtless pay him
generous tribute. And Lord`s itself may think up some
affectionate honour: the ``Dickie`` Bird Tavern, perhaps? For
this umpire, as much as the as the best practitioners of
cricket`s other arts, has made himself a very part of the game.
Mr Bird has been the umpire par excellence of the modern,
televisual era. The camera has, over 23 years and 65 Test
matches, captured both his skill and his sense of humour.
Just as his chuckles between overs are beamed into the
nation`s living rooms, so too is the slow-motion detail of
his finely honed decisions.
Scarcely anyone groans or yowls or screams abuse when Mr Bird
raises his right index finger: and players, too, in this
acrimonious age of cricketers, seem always to take his judgments
with docility. His fellow-umpires, whether English or foreign,
hold him in the highest regard: in an interview with The
Times last year, S. Venkataraghavan, Mr Bird`s heir-apparent
as the world`s best umpire, declared that ``wearing the white
coat together with Dickie is a source of great comfort``.
Yet if Mr bird`s celebrity is due in part to television, his
impending departure may have been caused by television as well.
Unkind, carping articles have appeared in the press from time
to time -- especially in the last year -- drawing attention to
a few of those decisions which umpires-in-the-stands are apt to
call ``iffy``.
Camera technology is now utterly remorseless. Commentators
today speak with the frankness and irreverence that go with
our age: decisions that were once described as ``touch and
go`` are now denounced, nakedly, as ``wrong``. The margin of
error that umpires have enjoyed -- and should continue to do so
-- has all but vanished. Mr Bird is still an astonishingly
good umpire, but television has shown that he too has his
moments of fallibility: the criticism has rankled.
His departure will rob the game of a great showman, and a
little of its rectitude. But it may free Mr Bird for some less
taxing pursuits. For 30 years or more he has turned his back on
marriage -- being, as he puts it, ``married to cricket``.
Perhaps there will be time, at last, for a Mrs Bird. How`s
that?
Source :: Daily News (Sri Lanka)