Obituaries

Eulogy for Martin Baker
We’ve all known today was coming. Ever since that ominous message three and a half years
ago: The world-stopper, the sledgehammer in the face, when we realised that Martin, our
great friend Martin, was going to die and there was nothing that he or we could do to stop it.
Yet when I met him a few weeks later and we talked about it, I was amazed how matter-offact
he was. As usual, he’d done his homework, he’d listened to what he’d been told, he’d
worked out what he could do and what he couldn’t do and he was just getting on with it.
There was no self-pity. On the contrary, he didn’t want his illness to be our problem but that
was just typical of the man. Whatever you threw at Martin, he sorted it out and got on with
life without any fuss. That he could be like this with his cancer was quite astonishing and
remarkably brave.
Connie recently said that it isn’t a fight against cancer because you can win a fight but you
can’t win against cancer, and of course she was right. A lot of people would have fallen into
a deep depression and gone home and waited to die but not Martin, that wasn’t in his DNA.
Martin didn’t do lost causes. If we were losing 30-0 with five minutes to go, he’d still give
everything he had.
Martin was Secretary of the Old Haberdashers Association for the last 15 years. When I last
saw him, he said that it was this work that kept him going. In fact, the reverse is even more
true: It was his work that kept the Old Haberdashers going.
Martin was a great administrator and networker and he found out that two of the country’s
top oncologists, Nigel Cowan and Nick James, were both Old Haberdashers. He got in
touch, went to see them, got a second opinion, got a third opinion, he discussed the pros
and cons of the various options and alternative treatments. He did try to fight it and of course
he lost but not without trying and at least he put the game into extra time.
I first met Martin at school. He was a few years below me but stood out, not just because of
his red hair, but because he was good at everything – rugby, hockey, cricket, work. Martin
went on to King’s College, London and got involved with college sport. He did however find
time to start playing a few games for the Old Haberdashers and when he left King’s to start
his career with BT, he became a full-time Old Haberdasher, cementing his place in the first
team. Fly Half in the winter, fast bowler in the summer.
When I became Captain of the rugby club, he was the obvious choice as Vice Captain.
When I bought my flat in Ealing and then my house in Brentford, he was the obvious choice
as lodger. They were great times. We had a lot of fun, at times perhaps too much fun, and
it’s always good to think back to all the stupid things we did together and to be honest
carried on doing together.
When I left the UK, our lives remained entwined. He was usher at my wedding, I was Best
Man at his wedding, he was godfather to my daughter and then six years ago, I was Witness
on that wonderful day near here at Cliveden when he married Connie – a marriage that was
to be cut short so tragically.
Martin wasn’t a dynamic leader. He led by example. It was the things he did and little things
he said that influenced us and moved us in the direction he wanted to go.
Similarly, he wasn’t the loud guy down the pub. Having said that, there were a few occasions
when he did get a bit over-excited, when the funmeter went onto red and a shout of
“disgraceful” would boom out, often when the subject of French people or White Van drivers
arose. It was of course all half-hearted because Martin was a very tolerant man. He never