Shepherd's a delight

When he hangs up his coat in September, it will be hard not to feel wistful about Shepherd, a man who ended a recent Test session with the words: "It's lunch, and that means roast beef and yorkshire pudding."

Aside from his eccentricities, Shep, as he is affectionately known (even to Jenny, his partner of 32 years), is an excellent and hugely respected umpire. He will have stood in 92 Tests and a record 165 one-day internationals, including three World Cup finals, when he retires from the International Cricket Council's elite panel of umpires in July.

"It's the right time to go," Shepherd explained. "I'm coming up to 65 and you have to finish in county cricket when you are that age. I thought if I can't umpire in my own country it is time for a complete break.

"The travelling can be a bit much as well. People say it's great to go to so many wonderful countries, which it is, but we are only allowed to take our partners for one trip a year, so it can get lonely.

"Peter Willey turned down the chance to be one of the elite umpires because he would be away from his wife and young family for so long."

Jenny gently mentions that the six weeks Shepherd spent at home last summer was "the longest I've known him be at home".

So, how does this genteel man of Devon plan to spend his retirement?

"Everybody asks me that," says Shepherd. "I will play a bit of golf - we've got some nice courses around here - and take the dog for a walk every morning and afternoon.

"I also hope to put something back into the game. Cricket has been everything to me and has been so good to me."

Shepherd was a village cricketer who became a solid county batsman ("I'm not built for bowling," he laughs) at Gloucestershire, living on generous helpings of food, pints of strong beer and the occasional big innings peppered with huge sixes.

He was a qualified teacher but preferred to stay in the game when he stopped playing in 1979 and settled on umpiring rather than coaching or administration "because you live or die by your own decisions".

He has made mistakes of course, even contemplating retirement after that dreadful afternoon at Old Trafford in 2001 when the cameras revealed that three Saqlain Mushtaq wickets were taken by no balls he failed to spot, but Shepherd is loved and his rare mistakes are tolerated.

He has always maintained a warm relationship with the players, recalling Ian Botham and Allan Lamb as two characters who particularly stood out.

"Players must respect the coat and the game itself," explains Shepherd. "And umpires must respect players.

"It's a two-way thing. It's a question of speaking the same language as the players and knowing when they are struggling or having a bad time."

This 64-year-old may be reassuringly old fashioned in many ways, but has a refreshingly positive attitude towards the use of technology in cricket.

"The game wasn't made for umpires, it was made for players," says Shepherd. "If it assists the players, I've nothing against it. Where would we be without the cameras that give the line decisions? They are brilliant. It used to be the case that the one guy who made the decision was the one guy who hadn't seen it on a replay. "I'm not so sure about cameras for lbw decisions. I don't trust it fully. It can be educational but I think it's more for the TV spectator."

Shepherd is less enamoured with those other chestnuts of the sport - cheating ("I despise it") and sledging.

He raises his eyes as he remembers the Australian teams of the Seventies and Eighties ("some of the things they said were shocking") but believes the introduction of the stump microphone has helped curb the worst excesses.

Perversely, this grand custodian of the game is recognised more in cricket-mad India than in England, and, even on a recent trip to Dubai with Jenny. "It seemed every other person came up to say hello".

Shepherd puts this down to the umpires' schedule, which does not allow him to officiate in Test matches involving his home country and means he spends much of his working time abroad.

That will now change, as Shepherd, a Devon man to the core, looks forward to spending a well-deserved retirement in the village that he calls home.