There are some who pass among us, effective but relatively unnoticed and there are some who leave an indelible mark on those whose life they touch. John McDonald was without doubt one of the latter.
He will be remembered by his team-mates and opponents alike for his stoic resolve at the crease and with an incredibly open-faced 'leave', as one of the most frustrating batsmen in the league. Most of all however, the man many opponents nicknamed 'W.G.' will be remembered with respect and affection.
As unorthodox on the pitch as he was often in life, John's values were never better reflected than when he was at the wicket. He was a scrupulously fair umpire, and when batting, left the umpire with little to do. If he nicked it, he walked. If he didn't nick it, the mischievous smile he offered the umpire threatened a far more serious reaction should the official choose to ignore John's own interpretation of events. In the event, that he was dismissed however, there would be no tantrums, no complaints, only an apology to the remainder of the batting order (not that there was usually much left of it by the time John was out). He was a pleasure to bat with also. You were unlikely to pull a hamstring when running with him, and could always be sure of a calming word after any rushes of blood. "Don't panic..." he'd say as you lingered on 23-1 after 19 overs "...there's plenty of overs left. Let's just dig in and get established".
Although I was never entirely comfortable batting at No3, I seldom enjoyed my time at the crease more than when sharing one of many second wicket partnerships with John, and I remember with some pride the one occasion when he left the wicket before me. Too often for the club's good, John's score was the backbone of the total and he rescued several matches and won some others, in the same phlegmatic manner. No delivery within six inches of the off stump was safe, and wherever they were pitched, they all headed on a similar trajectory to the mid wicket boundary. I feel sure that one of John's fondest memories was hitting an onside four through Mitre's 8-1 field on the way to his then highest score for the club.
A useful occasional bowler, he denied me a ten wicket haul once by taking the only one I hadn't got, and his contributions during our promotion season were often telling. He was also a remarkably agile gully fielder, taking some spectacular catches. As we raced forward to congratulate him, he was usually brushing himself down quietly suggesting, "not bad for an old man".
As happened to others, the captaincy brought with it a loss of form, and combined with his illness, his last two seasons would not go down as his best. If you wanted to talk to John about his batting, his bowling or his captaincy, he would meet you head on, but his was a difficult mind to change, such was his determination. If you sought however to question his commitment to Kirkbrae Cricket Club, I would suggest that you did not know the man.
In the three years since I left Edinburgh, I talked to John perhaps three or four times; however now that he is gone, I miss him. He was a principled man, a determined man, a kindly man. I'm glad I knew him. When I remember him, he will be smiling at a bowler who is howling in frustration at a ball that missed the bat by a coat of varnish, for the third time that over. We, of course, will be relaxed on the boundary, knowing that there is a lot more of that to come.
Kirk Brae is a small club. It was always meant to be that way, and John embodied better than many of us the principles we sought to pursue. However dire the situation may appear for the Club at the end of the season, it has probably been just as bad before. If the current incumbents of the committee positions can represent you with the determination and commitment that John McDonald did, you can rest easy that your future is assured.
Rest in peace John, and keep swinging across the line. You've got plenty of overs now.
Ian Murdoch April 1998