12 November 1998
Conviction costs Boycott outlet for unique voice
Simon Hughes on a fastidious and awkward character
DICKIE Bird was umpiring once at Headingley when Geoffrey Boycott
appeared on the pavilion balcony in civvies. He had retired from
first-class cricket a few years before. "That man Boycott's got
millions y'know and when he dies they'll bury all the money with
him," Bird said. "And I'll be the first to go and dig it up."
The upholding of Boycott's guilty verdict in his
girlfriend-beating case, announced on Tuesday, means he may not
now be worth as much as Dickie imagined. Added to his substantial
court costs, various lucrative media contracts are likely to be
consigned to the wastebin.
The Sun, that distingushed pillar of moral values, jettisoned him
yesterday, the BBC are unlikely to employ him in the near future,
nor are Sky or Channel 4. He faces a period in the broadcasting
wilderness.
Love him or hate him, Boycott had no peers as a commentator, both
in what he said and how he behaved. His precis of situations or
incidents were brilliant, even if he tended to repeat himself. He
was a thorough professional, delivering his famous pitch
inspections and match analyses in one take, without autocue or
crib sheets. His observations were articulate and often funny.
But it was his time off-mike that revealed most about him as a
person. He was fastidious with a capital F. He always arrived
immaculately dressed, often delivered to the door by his regular
companion Ann Wyatt, who was then left to her own devices while
he worked.
I once saw her standing in a Chanel suit in the dingy members bar
at Northampton drinking tea out of a polystyrene cup. Meanwhile
Boycott would be carefully hanging up his jacket and hat in the
commentary box and turning his sleeveless sweaters inside out
before folding them over the back of a chair. He forensically
labelled his water glass and brought his own foam shield for the
microphone.
He had few friends in cricket. Many current players disliked him
for his outspokenness, and fellow commentators like Richie
Benaud, David Gower and Tony Lewis endured rather than enjoyed
his company and Gower once stamped on his precious straw hat he
found him so infuriating.
Boycott never socialised with any of the commentators or
production staff, and would constantly haggle over money. He had
special rates for mileage, apparently double the norm, and
compiled scrupulous expense invoices, including claims for such
items as "porters' fees".
When not commentating, Boycott lingered around the box
pontificating, and was usually quite approachable, even though
his language was punctuated by expletives. He became positively
animated whenever an attractive woman appeared, often
complimenting their dress or figure.
In several years working with him I can only remember him losing
his temper once - with a rather inflexible young stage manager -
and he never seemed capable of violence.
He did, however, occasionally overstep the mark. His outburst
against England coach David Lloyd during the Oval Test against
Sri Lanka, which led to an aggrieved confrontation behind the BBC
studio, was a case in point.
Then, as now, he would have declared he had done nothing wrong,
but this intransigence - his hallmark as a player - is finally
costing him his livelihood. After the phenomenal success of
Dickie Bird's autobiography, it may ultimately be the umpire who
ends up quids in.
Source :: Electronic Telegraph (https://www.telegraph.co.uk)