Dickie Bird obituary

"Bird was part respected cricket umpire, part music-hall comedian. His life became a perpetual run of gently embellished anecdotes, all of which cast him as the unfortunate fall guy struggling to cope with the challenges of the world. He would tell them with relish, looking round with mock unease that somebody might be listening. The more people who heard him the better: he generally liked an audience."

"The only time I ever feel in control is when I cross that white line, Bird said. For more than 20 years, he was regarded as the finest umpire in the world, an accolade that, as his career progressed, he earned as much from the pleasure he brought as from the accuracy of his decisions. He reached prominence at exactly the right time."

"By the time he stood in his farewell Test in 1996 it was a more serious age: technology had taken hold, television umpires had been installed and every decision came under the utmost scrutiny. There was less patience for a funny little man with a flat cap, a range of mannerisms and a sense of theatre. Players respected him because of his instinctive fairness, his unabashed pleasure in their performance and because he offered light relief during the cricket treadmill."

Dickie Bird was a beloved, proficient and eccentric cricket umpire who died aged 92. He combined respected umpiring with music-hall comedy and became a nationally identifiable figure. He relished telling gently embellished anecdotes and enjoyed an audience. He said, "The only time I ever feel in control is when I cross that white line." For over 20 years he was regarded as the finest umpire, earning acclaim for decision accuracy and the pleasure he brought. He rose to prominence around the first World Cup and remained popular with players for instinctive fairness, but technology and television scrutiny by 1996 reduced patience for his theatrical manner.

Read at www.theguardian.com