Sir Clyde, Perpetual Light

One measure of the stature a person has attained lies in international recognition and acclaim. It is but one measure, as many are worthy but remain unsung heroes.

In the case of the late Sir Clyde Walcott, it can be said that as a part of the famous three Ws: Worrell, Weekes and Walcott, he defined an era in West Indies cricket and indeed, a significant period in West Indian social life.

Someone whose name defined an era truly deserves the mantle of great.

His passing at 80 will evoke memories and tributes from around the planet, for such was the widespread impact of his earthly presence.

His life in cricket embraced several levels: from wicket-keeper and batsman, to scout and coach, and ultimately as administrator: president of the West Indies Cricket Board of Control from 1988-1993, following which he became the first black man to chair the International Cricket Council (ICC).

He served the game as robustly as he played. For although we can remember Sir Clyde by his statistics and come away once again impressed by the immensity of his talent ? he was the first batsman to score five centuries in a single Test series (1955 v Australia) ? he contributed equally substantively to the development of West Indies cricket.

From 1954 to 1970 when he lived in then British Guiana, working and developing cricket on the sugar plantations, he helped to unearth and groom several players, particularly from Berbice, who acknowledged the value of his coaching. It was the time of Rohan Kanhai, Basil Butcher, Joe Solomon, Roy Fredericks and Lance Gibbs.

He was an individualist, wrote CLR James, a feature of being West Indian given the shaping circumstances of slavery, indentureship and colonialism. James felt "it would be a miracle if we were not", and he saw Walcott's presence as a fertilisation of this sense of individuality, "so that the burgeoning Kanhai inherited not only the universality of Barbados batting, but was able to absorb also the individualism of one of the most brilliant of West Indian individualists".

He'd recalled his first cricket encounter as a three-year-old, and the way he was mesmerised by cricket gear rather than toys. By the time he was 16 and making his debut for Barbados, it seemed so clear to him that cricket was to be his life, that he resisted his parents' attempts to steer him into a steadier career as a dentist, and chose professional cricket.

He could not have known where it would take him, but history proved it an immaculate choice. Sir Clyde's passing, while it invokes mourning for the life gone, also allows us to reflect on what 80 years can mean.

In contrast, the passing of Pakistan's Wasim Raja just a few days ago brought a sense of shock. Raja was playing cricket when he collapsed with a heart attack. He was only 54, and had served as cricketer, coach and ICC match referee. West Indians may best remember him on tour with Pakistan in 1997 when he topped the averages with 57.44, scoring 517 runs in a series that began at Kensington Oval with him scoring 117 and then 133 in the second innings.

Raja was so young and even if he had lived fully, one cannot say that he had lived a full life, not in the way one can of Sir Clyde.

It has been a week full of passings. The former president of Trinidad and Tobago, Noor Hassanali, died last week, and was buried within hours, according to Muslim custom. He was a man of great stature, esteemed for the decency, humility and integrity he brought so generously to public life. He had grace and class without a shadow of pomposity and this endeared him to his complex society in an unprecedented way.

No public figure has been so unanimously loved. Another measure of the stature of a person.