Once he was asked why he put so much into the administration of the game. Sir Clyde Walcott responded: "Cricket has done so much for me that I can't do enough for cricket."

He died on Saturday, aged 80.

As a cricketer, he did so much for us that there is not enough we can do for him, except, perhaps, remember - which, really, is what Clyde Walcott continues to do for us.

Remembering, though, is not always a trait with which we are deeply blessed in the Caribbean. That is to say, our memories are not often filled with the heroic deeds of those who deserve our praise, but mostly of the failures and frailties of men.

We are sure that Clyde Walcott had his failures and frailties. There are those who, we suspect, will argue that Sir Clyde did not cover himself in glory during the latter period of his presidency of the International Cricket Council when India's Jagmohan Dalmiya's effort, as part of his own succession strategy, sought to bring new members to the organisation. The claim is that Walcott sided with the traditionalists in a bid to block the democratisation of the ICC.

There are others who will, however, have contrary views. And in the event, whatever the opinions about that episode, there are none who would claim anything other than that Walcott was a decent human being. Moreover, on the cricket field, he not only gave us West Indians joy, but helped to bolster and assert our sense of self. He gave us cause to remember.

By any measure, Sir Clyde was a great cricketer. But his cricket transcended performance on the field to exist in the place of the gods, that mythical realm where fact and fiction envelop into a greater truth.

The statistics tell a powerful story. In 44 Test matches Clyde Walcott scored 3,798 runs, including 15 centuries, for an average of 56.68 runs per innings. We start to count the greats at averages topping 50. He was a wicketkeeper good enough to carry the gloves for the West Indies and only had to give up duties behind the stumps because of a back injury.

A big man over six feet, he hit the ball like thunder, especially on the drive and cut. But he had shots all round the wicket. Those who saw him on the go insist that he would have been a terror in the modern limited-overs version of the game.

But Walcott was beyond the sum of the statistics or his role as cricket administrator, whether at the ICC, as team manager, or president of the West Indies Cricket Board. As one of the 'Three Ws' of Walcott, Worrell and Weekes, whose post-War prowess boosted the confidence of the colonial West Indies, he helped to inspire the 1970s and 1980s West Indian dominance of world cricket. Indeed, his performance on the 1950 tour of England, including his 168 at Lord's, helped the West Indies win their first Test and series in that country, represented a critical contribution to an event that was perhaps as psychologically important to the British West Indies as any other episode in the region's history.

Mild-mannered and uncontentious, Clyde Walcott knew cricket. So, he knew life. And he gave us joy.