Walking the Tightrope: A Famous Bird
Sally Codman meets Dickie Bird, the famous cricket umpire - and also recalls interviews with other famous authors.
Recently I travelled over to Huddersfield to meet a famous 'bird' - the cricket umpire Dickie Bird.
Dickie was in town to sign copies of his latest book 'Dickie Bird's Britain' - a Christmas-present, coffee-table sort of book, full of lavish photos of his favourite U.K. haunts, including many in Yorkshire.
(N.B. to any publishers - I am available for this type of free holiday, I mean writing venture, at the drop of a feather)
A small queue had formed in W H Smith, Huddersfield, by the time I got there. Dickie was due on signing duty at 12.30. By 12.20 the rumour was that he was still "having lunch".
Anxious workers with rumbling stomachs, who had popped out in their lunch hour to meet 'The Man' muttered hopes that he wouldn't linger too long over the coffee, brandy and mints.
He didn't. Bang on the dot he arrived at his table and the signing began.
Having secured the promise of an interview later for The Kirklees Recorder* I stood behind Dickie and spent a fascinating half-hour eavesdropping.
Despite looking tired (his driver later revealed Dickie's blood pressure was playing up) Mr Bird was chatty and charming to everyone, whilst cleverly abbreviating the more complicated message requests.
He posed for photos with a group of young students, flirted with the ladies (young and not so young) discussed mutual friends, chatted about a man's forthcoming holiday to Australia and admired someone's baby.
He'd make a great politician.
Later, when the queue had thinned out, he gave me a well-practised interview - extolling the virtues of Yorkshire, explaining how his publishers had approached him at the end of his cricketing career and suggested he try writing and declaring firmly that The Ashes should remain at Lords, whatever the Aussies say.
We had a great chat and I came away feeling better for meeting him.
It set me thinking about other 'famous people' I've been lucky enough to meet in my 20-plus years as a local journo. Ken Dodd arrived in the upper corridor of Huddersfield Town Hall laden-down with costumes and a heavy suitcase and looking like a tired old man.
Half-an-hour later he emerged from his dressing room transformed and gave me and a journalist from the Huddersfield Examiner an interview. I say interview, it was more of a monologue, we could hardly get a question in edgeways.
Minutes later he stepped on stage to greet a full-house audience. It was as if someone, somewhere, had flicked a switch and he'd leapt into overdrive. Since arriving he'd shed 15 years and 14lbs as if by magic.
Once on stage he was unstoppable and gave everyone more than their money's worth. Half the audience missed the last bus home and town hall staff were heard to mutter loudly about overtime.
The Neil Kinnock of 20 years ago was a real Welsh firebrand, with blazing red hair and a passionate speech to match (although, like most politician's speeches I've heard, I've since forgotten what it was about. Who said a bad memory can be a blessing in disguise?)
Another author, Gervase Phinn of 'Over Hill and Dale' fame, was tall, dark, handsome and as charming as his gently-amusing tales of his life as a school inspector in North Yorkshire.
You may not have heard of David Blackburn, but art collectors in American have, although he is a quiet and unassuming man, unlike that other Huddersfield artist and self-promoter Ashley Jackson. I remember my interview with David whenever I go into my study - one of his abstract pastel works hangs there.
Today I'd probably have to declare the gift of a painting to the tax man, but way back then it never crossed my mind. The work, which has a deep, dark, purple/red background and some abstract, paper collage shapes, has been christened 'Bus tickets in the dark' by my uncultured family.
I have to admit it doesn't really reflect my own taste in art, but it's a lot better than most of the Turner Prize entries and I'm hanging on to it. It could be worth a fortune some day!
* The Kirklees Recorder is a free fortnightly 'talking newspaper' on cassette tape for anyone who is blind, partially-sighted or unable to read an ordinary paper. For more info call our office on 01484 221793 and leave your name and number and we'll get in touch.
COPYRIGHT SALLY CODMAN 2004 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
