Don’t get me wrong: I had no problem with my replacement. Everyone has their day. Producers should always have the right to revamp a program and take it in a new direction. It was the way they handled it. It taught me that there really is no way to leave a role in a nice, pleasant and helpful way, with your head held high. The countdown to the end had started in October 2016, when A Question Of Sport was one of the first BBC shows to be put out to tender to independent production companies. I was on vacation when some TV producer friends contacted me. They had seen the BBC tender document and couldn’t believe my name wasn’t on it. Apparently the BBC wanted to revamp the show — with more diversity and greater appeal to younger audiences. I was baffled. How did they think I wouldn’t hear it? Fortunately, many of the companies that bid for the show wanted me to stay. At this point the BBC backtracked and said they didn’t want to change the line-up. After 24 years in the hotseat, I’ve been sacked as host of BBC quiz show A Question Of Sport — and I’m afraid it’s left me slightly damaged Two years later, BBC management told me that my contract was being renewed for two years, but that in the final year I would be asked to take on two new team leaders to replace Phil Tufnell and Matt Dawson. I didn’t have to think about it much: I said to leave with the boys. Nothing was decided for this next year, so we all got another contract extension. By the summer of 2020, rumors of a lineup change started circulating again, though absolutely nothing was mentioned to me, Matt, or Phil. We started to think we were going to have another extension. Then, weeks later, during the penultimate block of recording sessions, we were suddenly all called into separate meetings with management. With me, there was a piece of “We love the show and you were an amazing host, but . . .’ I expected this “but”. They fired us. I accepted their decision, though I could not help feeling abject sorrow. The boys were also devastated. The show had played an anchoring role in all our lives. it was part of our identity — it’s the first thing any audience member who stops me for a chat wants to know. Matt says that despite being selected for three British and Irish Lions tours and being an England World Cup winner, his mother only thought he had made it when he joined A Question Of Sport. The only thing we asked the BBC for was to get statements from all of us about when the news broke. But we heard nothing. No email, no letter, no phone call. Silence. Now I find myself, at 66, looking back on a tennis career that was cut short by injury, followed by a television career that has expanded beyond my wildest dreams. Since I signed with the Beeb in 1993, this year has been my lightest workload. No matter the sport, I’m back where I started – Wimbledon Then, two weeks before we shot the final show, BBC management emailed just to say they were sorry they hadn’t been in touch. Then the anger started. Not only for how I was treated, but also on behalf of the boys. Naively, I expected more after 24 years. We’d all seen John Humphrys walk away from Mastermind on his own terms, with a celebratory introduction by Clive Myrie a week later. Three days later, I got a call to say that the story of our departure was about to break. They sent me a statement that the BBC wanted me to approve immediately, saying that the three of us had decided to step aside. They hadn’t bothered to get an offer from me. Why hadn’t they responded to our request earlier? Why had they shown us so little respect? As we had not decided to step aside at all, we refused to sign the declaration.

Why did I try to steal from the Queen?

London 2012 was memorable in so many ways – starting with a pre-Games lunch with the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh at Buckingham Palace. It was an intimate meal with just six guests — what an honor! I was sitting next to the Duke and opposite the Queen, and the atmosphere was very relaxed, with lots of laughter. At the end of lunch, the sidekick to my right (David, you know who you are) decided we should have a souvenir of this special occasion. I would sneak two menus in my bag and he would put our two cards in his jacket. we would change outside. Well, I agreed. We were laughing like children. As we descended the stairs, we were met by a Palace official who gave us some gifts. . . which included the beautifully embossed menus. As he handed them over, he said, “You see, you didn’t have to take them after all. “Don’t worry,” he added as we broke into nervous giggles, “you’re not the first and you won’t be the last.”

I was then asked to announce that I was leaving for the good of the show. I was surprised. Was it because I was too old or not good enough? Either way, it was offensive. Did they actually expect me to fire myself? I told the BBC to make up its own mind and say publicly that it wanted to renew the show. I wasn’t going to lie to make it easier for them. Unbelievably, they then offered me my job back, but because I couldn’t help but want them anymore, I declined. The next day, they asked me again to say I was leaving “for the good of the show”. What the hell were they thinking? It wasn’t the end of an era that stung, but the way they handled it. Matt, Phil and I are all former sports professionals. We grew up in the school of hard knocks. We would have been happy if they had planned ahead and said, “This will be your last year and we would like you to help find a suitable new host and new captains.” A good development would be in the spirit of the show and easier for the fans as well as the new quizmaster and leaders. There seemed little understanding of our chemistry and how we worked together, and little appreciation for all the years we had put in to make sure each show was as good, if not better, than the last. The whole scene was confusing and distressing. The overwhelming feeling I was left with was the determination that this kind of treatment, this lack of care and attention, will never happen to me again. When the time came I was to ‘own’ my BBC retirement. I was going to decide how and when I would leave. I wasn’t going to wait to be kicked out the door. Inevitably, this would mean leaving earlier than I would normally have chosen to go. Mind you, it wasn’t my first layoff. In August 2005, former Today editor Roger Mosey took over as the BBC’s Director of Sport, and I realized I was never going to be his cup of tea. Three years later, I had an off-the-cuff phone call from a woman in the BBC’s accounts department, who informed me that there was going to be a change to my contract — and that, by the way, I was being let out of track and field. Urgent for the accounting office to say so! It seemed obvious that Roger wanted to get rid of me. Not only was the money offered significantly less than the value of my previous contract, but under the new terms the BBC could remove me from any sport at any time. So if all I had left was tennis, for example, I would only get paid for that. It was crazy. I told the lady at the accounts that no idiot would take that offer and no idiot should offer it (I didn’t mean her). And I decided to leave the BBC at the end of the year. Further down, I was asked to announce that I was leaving “to explore other opportunities.” I told them I would compose my own statement, thank you very much. Later that day, general manager Mark Thompson asked to see me, wanting to know why I was leaving. I described the way I was treated and he looked shocked. On the spot he offered me a new five-year contract that he arranged personally and I accepted. During the build-up to London 2012, I was excited beyond words at the prospect of helping to present the Olympics at home. As the BBC’s main general sports presenter, I had already co-presented the last three Summer and Winter Games and the Commonwealth Games. But I suspected – correctly – that Roger Mosey wouldn’t give me such a big role this time. Don’t get me wrong: I had no problem with my replacement. Everyone has their day. Producers should always have the right to revamp a program and take it in a new direction. It was the way they handled it Certainly, it turned out that he felt the event needed the gravitas of distinguished newscasters. His line was that the Olympics were “bigger than sport”. But he underestimated what sportscasters bring to a multi-sport event in terms of the depth and breadth of knowledge and technical dexterity required to jump from venue to venue. Huw Edwards was to be commentator for the opening ceremony. It was not clear who the presenters would be, but the rumor was that it would be a line-up from the News. This was really hopeless. Fortunately, the fiasco surrounding the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee broadcast of the river has led to a rethink. Roger himself later admitted that the TV coverage was “really bad” and that the casting of the presenters was wrong. The result; Just ten days before the 2012 Games, Gary Lineker and I were told that we would be co-hosting the opening and closing ceremonies after all. I just got on with it. After years of downgrading, I felt very lucky to have the opportunity. But I’m afraid the saga leading up to 2012 made me want to retire from my BBC commitments – which included the London Marathon and Sports Personality of the Year. Since then, I have decided to stick with A Question Of Sport and tennis. Now I find myself, at 66, looking back on a tennis career that was cut short by injury, followed by a television career that has expanded beyond my wildest dreams. Since signing with…