I was looking at a recent cup final programme and although the list of previous umpires only went back as far as 1980 it was sad to reflect on how many of our favourite umpires have passed away over 28 years. May they rest in peace, as they gave us a lot of fun and contributed as much to any cricket game as the players. We all had our favourites and if they were being honest, I’m sure they had their favourites as well. We loved and hated them in a flash, but at the end of the game or in the bar afterwards, there were big broad smiles and laughs aplenty as some of the incidents were discussed in a much more convivial atmosphere.
In our day most of the umpires were older, or at least we perceived them as older. Looking back, perhaps they weren’t as old as we thought. Overall they were highly respected and rarely was an umpire challenged on the field, as his authority was sacrosanct. Of course we all felt the star players got star treatment and that many of Dermott Monteith and Simon Corlett’s appeals were given because they intimidated the umpires, and we also felt wee Roy Harrison could have nicked ‘til the cows came home as no umpire wanted to face him after the game having given him out caught behind. Of course it was all in our minds, as the umpires gave it as they saw it, and if a couple here and there had a reputation for fingering the pros in the early days, was it perception or reality in the eyes of the victims?
The best of the old ones often traveled in unison and was there ever a more likeable umpiring partnership than Dai Jones and Fred McMurray? Dai had that wonderfully droll Welsh accent and sharp wit. He could be stern and benign in the same sentence and he loved his après cricket. Fred was such a lovely man you almost apologized when you appealed, and when he raised the finger it was often followed by well bowled. And he genuinely meant it!
Pete Reith, Mike’s father, was a big favourite, not least because he talked to the players throughout the game and he was an endless supply of fruit gums if you were fielding close to square-leg. Many a fielder asked to be moved just to share Pete’s gums!
Wee Harry Chamberlain and Ernie McLaughlin were another popular pair, although Harry once fired me out LBW to finish an innings and told me later he needed to go to the toilet. To this day I’m not sure it was the truth or a wind-up.
George Archer was a gentleman in every sense and one of the best umpires of his time. He didn’t suffer fools but he had an infectious laugh and a great love of cricket that he brought to every game. He was a Trojan within the Umpires Association, much like the jovial Joe Vaughan, another huge favourite with the players. Joe always seemed to get it right and if he didn’t, he was such a popular person nobody questioned the decision. The same could be said for the affable Sam Montgomery, whom we often gave a lift home to after matches. I’m not saying it influenced Sam in any way, but it was a lot more attractive than heading down to the bus-stop!
Jack Newell didn’t umpire a lot but on one occasion at Downpatrick he refused five appeals in one over for a stumping by Denis Artt when the evergreen Noel Ferguson was swishing with gay abandon. Noel was a legend at Downpatrick and the Strangford Road was one of Jack’s favourite drinking haunts so the chances of Denis getting a stumping were a million to one. On this occasion Denis’s petulance brought a stern rebuke from Jack on the field but in the bar later it was all swept under the carpet with a few Scotch. Fergie was untouchable at the Meadow, and in a way we accepted it because he was such a lovely person.
Sam McCormick, Stanley Long, Jim Barry and Billy Taylor all added much to our enjoyment, especially Billy who couldn’t wait to get back to his seat at the bar at Wallace Park every Saturday evening. If that meant a few sharp decisions late in the game then that’s the way it was. But we still loved him because Billy loved his cricket and with a few grogs on board, he would have talked all night about the old days and the old characters.
We didn’t play much against North-West teams until the Schweppes Cup came about in 1982 but by then I had already met Ernie Doherty, or the ‘Red Doc from the Rock” as he introduced himself on a holiday in Spain. He certainly sold and soused himself well every night in the bar and if his status didn’t measure as high as he painted it when I returned, I came to appreciate he was probably the greatest character of all the umpiring fraternity. Ernie loved a drink and perhaps that’s why the big matches always seemed to elude him, but as a character he was up there with the Gods. I love the story of him traveling home from an unfinished cup game on a Saturday evening a little tipsy with the match ball strapped to the back of his little motor-bike. Ernie made it home but the ball disappeared somewhere down the Faughan Valley roads on his way home and when he discovered the loss the next day he spent a fruitless Sunday afternoon looking up and down the hedges close to home for the missing ball. The match was re-started on the Monday evening with a poor substitute from Ernie’s limited stock, and after he fobbed off some heated challenges from the fielding team, the old ball was quickly swapped for a better version and the matter was dropped. There was no complaint form Ernie!
Sadly he fell on hard times in later life but you could write a book on some of his exploits. Indeed you could write a book on all of them because they gave us so many happy memories.
Rest in peace old stagers and thanks for the memories.
Clarence Hiles
Editor
