My brother, Martin Wood, who has died aged 66, was a one of the first dealers in cricket books in Britain. Now there are half a dozen sellers around the country, but Martin was a pioneer in his particular field.
He was renowned as a formidable negotiator, his finest hour coming when the publishing tycoon Robert Maxwell insisted on haggling over the price of a complete set of Wisden Cricketers’ Almanacks. For 10 tense days Martin stood his ground until Maxwell agreed to pay every penny of the original asking price.
Born in Ibstone, Buckinghamshire, to Peter, a wing commander in the RAF, and Ruth (nee Winnifrith), a wartime Wren, Martin was an athletic and gifted child, but at the age of eight began to experience epileptic fits, followed by a growing paralysis of his left arm and leg. A conclusive diagnosis of his condition was never reached.
He went to Lord Mayor Treloar college (now Treloar’s), in Hampshire, which specialised in the treatment of children with disabilities and despite his physical difficulties developed a passion for playing cricket. At the same time he began to pick up copies of Wisden, selling them as his collection grew.
After leaving school in the mid-1960s Martin began to hitchhike to county cricket matches, initially as a spectator but increasingly to buy and sell Wisdens. By the early 70s, with the help of his family, his cricket book collecting had graduated into a commercial business. He started to publish a catalogue, and as his mailing list grew he advertised secondhand books in cricket magazines. Ingeniously, he also placed adverts in The Lady, where recent widows found in Martin the very person to buy their late husbands’ collections of cricket books.
For many years Martin’s books filled the basement rooms of his parents’ large house in Sevenoaks, Kent, where he lived. When his father, who had chauffeured him to book auctions and provided organisational support, died of cancer, Martin moved himself and his books into a nearby house that had been adapted to his needs with huge amounts of shelving. Having lived with his parents for 55 years, he relished his new-found independence and – supported by his carer, Donnaleen Sowden – surprised his family and friends by becoming house-proud for the first time.
Later on, however, the arrival of the internet had a radical effect on the book trade and Martin found it increasingly difficult to operate in the digital era. As his health and his business declined, he drew great comfort from his Roman Catholic faith and in watching his garden grow. Much of his life was defined by physical distress, and he spent a lot of time under the surgeon’s knife. But he never complained about his lot, and his bravery was inspirational. His offbeat sense of humour remained until the end.
He is survived by our mother and by me.
