Sue Barker and tennis commentators

 Sue Barker and tennis commentators

When Sue Barker announced her decision to step down as one of the BBC's most well respected of Wimbledon commentators the summer sport of tennis lamented the loss of a woman who had graced the courts of SW19 so beautifully. Then you were reminded of the role that TV commentators in Britain had played in the development of their respective sports throughout the decades. 

For some of us the one man who had been the definitive voice of Wimbledon for as long as we could recall would always leave an indelible impression on your mind. His was the most distinctive voice of British tennis, the man who conveyed all the drama and tension of those tumultuous ding dong battles between Jimmy Connors and Bjorn Borg, John Mcenroe, Ilie Nastase and Stan Smith, tennis players of distinction and noble breeding, somehow synonymous with tennis during the 1970s. His name is almost carved into the brickwork and ivy of Wimbledon. 

Dan Maskell was one of the most highly esteemed figures within his sport. His commentaries had a liquidity and well mannered gentility that will always be remembered. Maskell's commentaries were spiced with brevity and simplicity, one word reactions to thrilling forehand returns from the finest tennis players in the world. 'Oh I Say' could almost be regarded as tennis's very own National Anthem. Maskell always allowed those epic encounters to flow with very few interjections and only added a notable comment when the occasion thoroughly merited it.  Maskell remained a gentleman for all of his celebrated life.

Even further back there was the inimitable Rex Alston with his rich and fruity sentences that would somehow paint a quaint picture of not only the players but the flora and fauna surrounding Centre Court. Alston came from a generation that valued courtesy and humility, where the values of decency and morality always came first. Alston spoke with that plummy tone which was somehow characteristic of that whole period of 1920s high society partying and good time hedonism, an age of flamboyant Charleston dances and women in Flappers dress.

Then there was Raymond Glendenning who, rather like Alston, could pass comment  on the opening of an envelope given half a chance and also dropped into Wimbledon. His commentaries were vividly lyrical, warmly eloquent and almost designed for a hot summer's day on Centre Court. Glendenning was a word artist, perfectly capturing the mood of the nation at the time with smooth and suave deliveries. At times you felt that both Glendenning and Alston could also describe royal garden parties with perfect diction, illustrating the finer points of the occasion with apt references to verbenas, roses and begonias.

There was almost the remarkable Max Roberston, Wimbledon's radio voice, always painting pictures with words since none had his ability to illustrate exactly what was going on through the medium of radio. For many years, Robertson was the essential guide to those who preferred to listen rather than watch. He was as quintessentially English as strawberries and cream or the proverbial jug of Pimms, red post boxes and village fetes. The voice would rise and fall according to the length of a rally or the sheer brilliance of the tennis that had most of the crowd nodding from side to side, mesmerised. 

Both Barry Davies for a considerable length of time on TV and John Motson on the radio would make the easiest of transitions to tennis from football with their unique style and fastidious attention to detail. But it was Dan Maskell who accompanied us through our adolescence, a man of wit and enormous wisdom, an indisputable authority on the game, entertaining and amusing with the merriest of quips.

Of course Maskell would be utterly appalled and ashamed of John Mcenroe's behaviour because he came from an era when players like Mcenroe might have prompted some  to send him to bed without anything to eat. Maskell would sharply reprimand Supermac's more outrageous antics on court and then despair when Mcenroe would suddenly shout at the umpire with a passionate tirade of obscenities. Perhaps Maskell would be taken back to his playing days when players would jump up into the air with undisguised delight at the point of victory and then respectfully shake the hands of their defeated opponents with an air of dignity about them.

And so another sporting summer is about to unfold before us without Sue Barker who once brought glory to English tennis. It is hard to know who will replace Barker since she seems to have become an integral part of Wimbledon for so many years now. You briefly thought back to BBC Two's late night analyses of the day's play when Gerald Williams would take us gently through the action of the day with marvellously informative and often humorous reflections. We await Wimbledon 2022 with the excited anticipation of those who have always loved its sense of theatre and spectacle. Anybody for tennis.