Christopher Martin-Jenkins, the cricket commentator and writer, who has died aged 67, held at various times the most coveted posts in his profession, having been the game’s chief correspondent at the BBC, The Daily Telegraph and The Times.
For good measure he was also editor of The Cricketer, and was asked to be editor of Wisden. Such was his reputation and his popularity within the game that in 2010 he became President of MCC, a rare honour for a journalist, and one that had remained an aspiration even for the Telegraph’s Jim Swanton.
As a radio commentator, Martin-Jenkins possessed neither the descriptive virtuosity of John Arlott, nor the high-spirited effervescence of Brian Johnston. Nobody excelled him, though, in what he regarded as the first duty: that of giving a precise, clear, well-informed and accurate account of every ball that was bowled and every stroke that was played.
Only when that essential had been achieved did he venture upon comment, humour and anecdote. It was an approach that must have involved deliberate restraint, for no one was better versed in cricketing lore.
Martin-Jenkins was also an excellent mimic, who in his Cambridge days had had some success in cabaret, not least in a parody of Rudyard Kipling’s If as enunciated by Edward Heath.
His writing displayed the same virtues of clarity and relevance as his commentaries. Sharply aware both of the rules of grammar and of the subtleties of phrasing, he would impatiently confront those who presumed to alter his copy.
Martin-Jenkins loved cricket in general, not just the ultimate challenge of a Test match. In his mind a prep school game could be every bit as exciting as a one-day international. On the same principle, as chief cricket correspondent he insisted that the county championship should be covered as conscientiously as an Ashes series.
He especially warmed to cricket in its more intimate settings, revelling in festivals such as Cheltenham and Scarborough, where he could share gossip and drollery with fellow journalists. No man, though, was ever further from being a dilettante. Compulsively industrious, Martin-Jenkins always seemed ready to intensify the pressure by taking on new work.
His professionalism, however, never eliminated a certain unpredictability in practical matters. In particular, he conducted a stormy relationship with his computer, more than once inflicting terrible crises on himself by hitting the Delete instead of the Send button.
Martin-Jenkins certainly loved his career; the strain it exacted, however, sometimes left him exhausted, irritable and prone to attacks of migraine. Fortunately, at a deeper level, serenity prevailed. His Anglican faith certainly involved some accommodation with doubt; nevertheless, he possessed the will and determination to believe what he hoped might be true before being certain that it was.
So his natural buoyancy and optimism were sustained. It must have helped, too, that he came from a family well-rehearsed in the challenges and disciplines of professional success.
Christopher Dennis Alexander Martin-Jenkins, the second of three brothers, was born at Peterborough, where his maternal grandmother lived, on January 20 1945. His father worked in shipping for Ellerman Lines, ending his career as chairman and managing director. His mother, a doctor, came from a distinguished medical family.
Christopher passed his first two years in Ayrshire, after which his parents moved to Prenton, a suburb of Birkenhead. Then, in 1951, his father, promoted to his firm’s London office, bought a large house at South Holmwood in Surrey.
From as far back as he could remember Christopher was captivated by cricket. At an early age he would amuse himself by commentating on matches, both real and fictitious. As a teenager he attempted his first book, Cricket, Lovely Cricket, for which he improvised a foreword by Brigitte Bardot: “Mes amis, je pense que cette [sic] livre est superbe; non, merveilleux. J’adore le Cricket et j’adore cette [sic] livre. Bonne chance.”
At St Bede’s prep school in Eastbourne, Martin-Jenkins gave every promise of becoming a formidable player, alike with bat and ball. Later, he captained the Marlborough XI, and scored 99 against Rugby at Lord’s.
Going on to Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge, to read Modern History, he had the satisfaction of obtaining the same degree in the subject, a 2:1, as his Fitzwilliam contemporary David Starkey.
Martin-Jenkins did not, however, achieve the cricket Blue that had been predicted. Perhaps he cared too much; at any rate his natural talent, when put on trial, suddenly seemed afflicted by nerves and self-consciousness.
The disappointment was the more severe as his enthusiasm for the game never flagged. Indeed, he felt that he reached his batting peak shortly after leaving Cambridge, when he turned out for Surrey Club and Ground. Later, in 1971, he played in a match for the county’s second XI.
However demanding his career, Martin-Jenkins rarely refused a chance to turn out in club cricket, whether for local sides such as Cranleigh, Albury and Horsham, or for MCC, the Free Foresters, the Arabs, I Zingari and the Marlborough Blues.
Despite his failure to gain a cricket Blue at Cambridge, he had the satisfaction of leading Fitzwilliam to victory in cricket Cuppers, and of obtaining a half-Blue for Rugby Fives. His undergraduate enthusiasms, moreover, were by no means confined to sport. He was brave enough to audition for the Footlights under the scrutiny of Clive James, Germaine Greer and Eric Idle.
In his last year at Marlborough Martin-Jenkins had written to Brian Johnston to ask how he might become a cricket commentator. His ambition was reinforced by the kindness with which Johnston received him.
After leaving Cambridge in 1967, however, he became an assistant at The Cricketer, under the august editorship of Jim Swanton. His first feature article, “In Defence of Professionalism”, caused the great panjandrum to dissociate the magazine from the views expressed.
Fortunately, when Richie Benaud’s copy failed to turn up, Martin-Jenkins was able to gain kudos by improvising a piece under the great Australian’s name.
After three years at The Cricketer he passed on to the more intense atmosphere of the BBC Radio Sports room, then run by a formidable and frequently vitriolic Scotsman called Angus Mackay, who liked to declare that his door was always open to everyone.
Martin-Jenkins rashly took him at his word and ventured a criticism of one of the programmes, with the result that Mackay never again spoke directly to him. Nevertheless, the tyro was tough enough to survive and eventually flourish in this most stressful of departments.
In 1973 he took over from Brian Johnston as the BBC’s cricket correspondent, a promotion which intensified his lifelong campaign against the predominance of football coverage. Another of his duties, which brought his name to national notice, was to present the sports slot on the Today programme.
From the moment he joined the BBC, Martin-Jenkins had pressed Outside Broadcasting for a trial as cricket commentator, and in May 1970 he passed his first audition. His debut before the public came at Old Trafford in August 1972, during the first one-day international to be played in England, against Australia. For the rest of his life he would be a member of the BBC’s commentary team.
It was not until 2008 that Martin-Jenkins, the voice of sober responsibility, unintentionally produced one of those “corpsing” sexual innuendos which afford listeners such merriment: “Broad runs in, he bowls, and this time Vettori lets it go outside the off stump. It was a good length, inviting him to fish, but Vettori, so to speak, stayed on the bank and kept his rod up.”
From 1974 to 1981 Martin-Jenkins passed most of his winters covering England’s overseas cricket tours. On the whole he enjoyed the experience; however, the desire to be with his growing family caused him to change direction in 1981, when he accepted an invitation to become editor of The Cricketer.
This meant a much reduced salary, which encouraged him to accept extra work, necessary at once for the payment of school fees, and for the financing of the large house which he bought at Rudgwick, near Horsham, in 1983.
Although he officially left the BBC in 1981, the Corporation retained him for Test Match Special, and also gave him the chance to do some television commentary. Radio, however, remained his staple.
Martin-Jenkins had already published several books, most importantly The Complete Who’s Who of Test Cricketers in 1980, a monumental effort which has retained its place as an essential reference book.
Now he found time to produce The Wisden Book of County Cricket (1981); Bedside Cricket (1981); Twenty Years On: Cricket’s years of change (1984); Cricket: a way of life (1984); Grand Slam (1987); Cricket Characters (1987); Sketches of a Season (1987); and Ball by Ball (1990).
In addition he edited Cricketer Book of Cricket Eccentrics (1985); Seasons Past (1986), and Quick Singles (1986). Only a workaholic and an exceptionally fluent writer could have achieved as much in his spare time.
From 1984 to 1991, moreover, he resumed his position as cricket correspondent of the BBC. He was also much in demand as an after-dinner speaker, winning many plaudits, albeit disturbing the feminist lobby on one occasion with an untoward remark about Martina Navratilova.
In 1991 Martin-Jenkins changed tack once more, becoming the chief cricket correspondent of The Daily Telegraph . So effective were his columns that in 1999 he was poached by The Times. Nine years later he handed over the reins at that paper to Michael Atherton, though he continued to contribute articles.
Meanwhile, the cricket books continued to flow: Summers Will Never Be the Same (1994); an anthology, The Spirit of Cricket (1990); An Australian Summer (1999); Men for All Seasons (2001); and The Top 100 Cricketers of All Time (2009).
In 2009 and 2010 Martin-Jenkins’s health seemed to be weakening, a bad bout of pneumonia being followed by acute hepatitis. His career, however, was crowned by his appointment as President of MCC for 2010-11.
His time in office coincided with the controversy over “Vision for Lord’s”, a plan to build five towers of flats at the north of the Nursery ground, while installing the cricket school and museum under that field. Some £100 million of the profit, it was envisaged, would be devoted to improving the capacity and facilities at the main ground.
Many MCC members, Martin-Jenkins among them, had doubts about both the aesthetics and scale of the plan. When Robert Griffiths, QC, as head of the development committee a leading protagonist for the scheme, attempted to exert pressure on the chairman and treasurer of MCC, these two dignitaries issued a counter-threat.
Either the development committee should be wound up, they announced, or they would stand down from their offices. At a stormy meeting in February 2011, Martin-Jenkins helped to ensure that the former course was chosen.
Far more pleasurable were the social responsibilities of the presidency. In particular, he enjoyed visiting Australia (and doubling as a BBC commentator) when England retained the Ashes in 2011.
Christopher Martin-Jenkins was appointed MBE in 2009.
In 2012 he published an autobiography, CMJ: a cricketing life. Typically of its author, it was largely about other people. The book did make clear, however, that, outside cricket, the great loves of his life were Sussex, golf and, beyond all else, his family.
He married, in 1971, Judith Hayman, with whom he had two sons and a daughter. Their younger son, Robin, proved a successful county cricketer for Sussex.
Christopher Martin-Jenkins, born January 20 1945, died January 1 2013
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