RIP Murray, last of sport’s golden voices
UNLESS he is very much mistaken, Murray Walker’s ascent to the great commentary box upstairs completes the full set.
In the pantheon of sport’s definitive voices, Walker goes straight into the celestial dream team.
Richie Benaud told us not to bother looking for Ian Botham’s towering six at Headingley. Sir Peter O’Sullevan could identify a jockey’s silks miles away on the Epsom Downs and David Coleman famously took Italy and Chile to task for their Battle of Santiago at the 1962 World Cup.
‘Whispering’ Ted Lowe’s hushed soundtrack at the Crucible, Geordie bard Sid Waddell’s inspired dottiness at the darts, the glorious baritone of Peter Alliss on the golf course and Dan Maskell’s priceless plums in his mouth at Wimbledon were all part of our sporting landscape. So was Eddie Waring’s sympathy with Don Fox after his shanked conversion cost Wakefield Trinity the Challenge Cup, while Bill McLaren’s mellifluous tones turned prop forwards’ brawls into “a little argy-bargy”.
When Harry Carpenter wasn’t ringside, commentating on world title fights, he was on first-name terms with the pugilists themselves. Know what I mean, ’Arry?
With Murray Walker, who has died at 97, the curtain has fallen on a golden age for sport.
We only miss the finest voices when they are gone, and with the great Walker’s passing there is a sense that the last light has gone out on the outside broadcast producer’s dashboard.
Even those of us who regard F1 as a round-the-world pollutant and a glorified trade show readily acknowledge Walker was synonymous with his specialist subject. He was pure gold. We were allowed to marvel at his foot-inmouth moments – because he had the good grace to laugh at himself.
“As you look at the first four, the significant thing is that Alberto is fifth.”
“Do my eyes deceive me, or is Senna’s Lotus sounding rough?”
“With half the race gone, there is still half the race to go.”
Comedy scriptwriters can only dream of one-liners like some of the great man’s gaffes.
The highest compliment we can pay Walker is that, for many of us, he was the main reason to watch motor racing on the box. And like his compadres in that commentary box up in the stars, his voice will be forever synonymous with the chequered flag he took three years short of his century.
Unless we are very much mistaken, it’s the end of an era. God’s speed, Murray – the privilege was all ours.