Had he devoted himself to cricket, Sheppard would have captained more often. Instead, he devoted himself to the Church
David Sheppard was a fine cricketer, but his lasting achievements were made far away from the game. His Wisden obituary in 2006 looked back on a remarkable life.
Rev. David Sheppard, as he was known for most of his playing career, was one of the most remarkable men ever to play cricket to a high level. His involvement was intermittent but always eventful. He captained England in two Tests in 1954. Had he devoted himself to cricket, Sheppard would have captained more often, and could easily have scored a hundred hundreds. Instead, he devoted himself to the Church, where he rose to become a long-serving, distinctive and, by most reckonings, outstanding Bishop of Liverpool. Politics cost him his chance of becoming an archbishop.
Unlike his exact contemporary, Peter May, Sheppard was no schoolboy prodigy. At prep school, he was a slow left-armer and tailender, and he was 17 before he broke into the team at his public school, Sherborne. But, under the tutelage of Micky Walford and Len Creese, he blossomed as a batsman as he grew from a shrimp into a strong young man, good enough to get three games for Sussex just after he left school, and 204, 147 and 130 in 11 days for them as a 20-year-old late in 1949.
The next year, when Sheppard and May arrived at Cambridge together after National Service, it was Sheppard who was first to sparkle, gaining national attention in 1950 when he shared an opening stand of 343 with John Dewes, and went on to make a chanceless 227, against the mighty 1950 West Indians. That helped catapult Sheppard into the Test team at The Oval and both men on to the tour of Australia. Brisbane in December being far more than half a world away from Fenner’s in May, they were palpably unready. But Sheppard slowly adjusted to the pace of the game, and regained his Test place at Adelaide, where he scored a second-innings 41 with the thoughtful determination that was the main characteristic of his cricket.
When Archbishop Runcie retired six years later, Sheppard had no chance, even though normal Anglican politics dictated that the evangelical wing should provide Runcie’s successor, and Sheppard was an outstanding figure. His views had also created a distance between him and Establishment cricket figures such as May; he was an implacable opponent of sporting links with South Africa long before it became fashionable, refusing to play against them as early as 1960. He never wavered. He retired in 1997 and became a life peer, alongside Colin Cowdrey, but was soon diagnosed with cancer, and his last years were difficult, although cricket was a great solace.
As a very young man, his evangelising could irritate his team-mates. He tempered his enthusiasm and became a popular dressing-room figure. “On a very hot day in Dubbo,” recalled AC Smith, a team-mate on Sheppard’s last tour, “we all went into the bar. Most Australian beer glasses are rather small, and there was just one English-style pint mug. Who won the race for it? DSS.”
His sermons sometimes had a little too much God and too little humour in them for the taste of fellow cricketers, but when he spoke at the 1995 Wisden dinner, he made a speech of outstanding grace and charm. His memorial service took place at a packed Liverpool Cathedral, with a bat placed on a table alongside his ordination Bible.
Baron Sheppard of Liverpool (Rt Rev. David Stuart Sheppard) died on March 5, 2005, the day before his 76th birthday
