Christopher Martin-Jenkins
Christopher Martin-Jenkins – deceased
Memorial attended by six England captains at St Paul’s Cathedral
A truly awesome occasion. It was a privilege and a joy to be there. Not least, and happily, because the very essence of the man pervaded the proceedings. CMJ was most certainly with us in spirit.
That over 2300 people filled the cathedral to capacity was also extraordinary. I well remember the memorial service for that unique man of Hampshire, John Arlott, at St John’s Church, Alresford, in 1992. Yes, we filled the church that day, and rightly so. But it is not the size of St Paul’s. On that occasion, also, famous cricketers were everywhere. One, Basil D’Oliveira, stood out from the crowd. Uniquely he owed his entire international first-class career to John Arlott who had succeeded in getting him out of South Africa during the apartheid era. And there he was in rural Hampshire paying his respects. Yes, that was a day to savour and remember.
Now, in a sense, here we were again 21 years later, celebrating not only another giant of the commentary box, but a man who millions had come to know, respect and enjoy via the media. And like John Arlott before him, CMJ was widely and rightly regarded with real affection by millions who had never even met him. That is a rare achievement.
I was lucky enough to obtain a ticket for St Paul’s at the last minute through the generosity of CMJ’s family, and – with the approval of our President, Douglas Miller – represented the Hambledon Club. CMJ had spoken to the Hambledon Club only a few years previously and, like all speakers, became an honorary member.
It is no exaggeration to suggest that, amongst such a huge congregation at St Paul’s, there were sufficient cricketers to stage two test matches simultaneously and still have a long list of 12th men. For a start, six former England captains were present.
Those who shared their time on the radio, on television, and in the newspapers with CMJ were also there in force. One, Jonathan Agnew, during his tribute, generated a few moments of gentle amusement when he described some of CMJ’s legendry difficulties with modern technology – including arriving at the wrong time, or even at the wrong ground, when he was supposed to be commentating.
Much to everyone’s surprise, Jonathan Agnew also played over the loudspeaker system of St Paul’s several minutes of extracts from CMJ commentaries on Test Match Special. We heard again the moment when England won the Ashes in 2009; the moment when a 17-year-old unknown Indian batsman, Sachin Tendulkar, scored the first of his 100 centuries in international cricket; and the moment when CMJ used his formidable powers of mimicry to imitate a Dalek after a provocative e-mail from a listener.
Even in his wildest dreams, surely, could CMJ ever have imagined that broadcasts of his would be re-broadcast in a place of worship, let alone such a magnificent and celebrated place as St Paul’s Cathedral – and during a church service!
Has such a thing ever happened before? I rather doubt it. I can only imagine the discussions with the Dean beforehand about doing such a thing. I suspect it was a brave, even daring, decision. Quite extraordinary – but entirely right on the day. As The Times put it afterwards, we found ourselves listening to “the voice of cricket’s guardian angel”.
Both other addresses also captured the spirit of the man we all knew. His chaplain at Fitzwilliam College in the 1960s, the Right Rev Peter Nott, later the Bishop of Norwich, described with great affection his memories of their friendship. It blossomed quickly on a mutual passion for cricket, a mischievous sense of fun and mimicry, an inner strength and natural sense of decency – in the best sense of the word – which made CMJ the man he was. Peter Nott thought those characteristics and qualities had seen CMJ safely through his entire life. We were celebrating the life of “a true Christian gentlemen”, he concluded.
Later, Sir Tim Rice, who was a distant cousin of CMJ, delivered a beautifully crafted, elegant and measured tribute to a man for whom he so obviously felt great affection and respect. He described CMJ as having gone through life scattering “humour, happiness and humanity”. Who could ask for more?
Between them, the former Bishop of Norwich, Sir Tim Rice and Jonathan Agnew achieved the near-impossible. They brought CMJ to life for those of us lucky enough to be in the congregation.
CMJ could not have asked for more. And nor could we.
