It was announced today that umpire David Shepherd succumbed to cancer. With the exception of Dickie Bird, Shepherd was the most beloved umpire among both players and fans, known as much for his eccentricities as the quality of his officiating.

With his proud paunch and flushed cheeks telling stories of many nights at the local pub, Shepherd was an anachronism even in the pre-Lalit Modi-and-NFL-cheerleaders era of the game. Even though the, ahem, bulk of Shepherd’s career took place before the advent of neutral umpires, his integrity was never called into questions. And while he had many shockers late in his career — one remembers the Pakistan-England test match in 2001 where he failed to spot that four of Saqlain Mushtaq’s wicket-taking deliveries were actually no-balls — opposition teams never suggested that he had any bias. If you have a beaming smile and inherent sense of fairness, even the notoriously unsympathetic modern cricketer will find forgiveness in his heart.

Even more than the quality of his umpiring, Shepherd will be remembered for his tics and superstitions. A strong believer that Nelson portended all kinds of evil, he would seek to stave off the spirits by keeping his feet off the ground whenever the score reached the dreaded figure.

If David Shepherd was of the old school, Wasim Akram’s wife Huma, who also tragically passed away this week, brought a much-needed dose of modernity to the Pakistani cricket team. The lot of cricketers’ wives is not a happy one. Their husbands are often out of the country touring, administrators (always male) dismiss them as WAGs (Wives and Girlfriends) and debate whether they should be granted a couple of days to spend with their husbands. Huma Akram did a lot to change that.

In 1994, Wasim Akram had been stripped of the captaincy after a revolt by much of the Pakistan team, leading him to consider pulling out of an upcoming tour to New Zealand. While he eventually agreed to go, he insisted that he be given a separate room and be allowed to bring his wife. On the field Wasim cut a forlorn figure. Whenever he took a wicket he had no one to celebrate with since every player on the field had betrayed him. And yet Wasim kept taking wickets, more than he ever had in a three-Test series. All the credit, he claimed, belonged to Huma. A trained psychologist, she helped him through his period of intense loneliness and vulnerability. When the history of Pakistan cricket is written, a special place will be reserved for her.