Wright leaves a legacy that has a warm smile

THE PHONECALL was always answered in the same polite, yet business-like manner. "Hello, what can I do for you?" And the man at the other end was certainly a "can do" individual.

The passing of the former Irish Cricket Union secretary John Wright last week shocked many. Indeed, the first item on the agenda for many in Aberdeen for yesterday's One Day International against New Zealand was to reflect on this most remarkable of sports administrators.

The very fact Ireland have the chance to take on sides like the Black Caps in a full ODI is down to the tireless efforts of people like Wright. In many ways he was a visionary, but he allied that with an innate knowledge of the political machinations of big-time sport. And he did it all with a smile and his trademark chuckle.

In Wright's mind, there wasn't a problem, big or small, that couldn't be sorted out in the space of a lap around Castle Avenue or his beloved Malahide. Hands behind his back, his movements were not unlike a penguin: more shuffle than shuttle diplomacy.

One of his greatest gifts was his ability to give time to all queries, whatever their import. This talent enabled him to move seamlessly from the committee rooms of Leinster and Irish cricket and on to the highest echelons of the game, where he eventually sat on the ICC chief executives committee.

His powers of persuasion were legendary, as summed up by World Cup coach Adrian Birrell: "He was my boss for five years when I was coach, and he never once raised his voice during my time there. Yet, when he smiled and looked into your eyes you knew you were losing the battle."

Wright got to enjoy the fruits of his labour last year with Ireland's fantastic World Cup journey through the Caribbean.

It was a mark of the man that when time came to step down from his role he did so with the minimum of fuss, welcoming in the new, streamlined Cricket Ireland structure.

The turnout at his funeral not only marked his remarkable life in cricket, but also his association with St Sylvester's GAA club in the North Dublin village and his work with the Fianna Fail party in the constituency.

It was Wright's sister, Mary, who gave us the greatest insight into this most private of public figures - from the early days of listening through the static to John Arlott's commentary to his understatement of his position in the world of cricket.

Stopped at traffic lights in Malahide one day, Wright rolled down the window to talk to his sister. On being asked where he was headed, he answered: "Just off to Dubai for the weekend."

No fuss, work to be done.