Bob Woolmer was a good man who gave three years of his life to Pakistan. He didn't deserve the abuse he received in life - and in death, writes Richard Gillis

As coach to the Pakistan cricket team, Bob Woolmer lived the last three years of his life in one of the most stressful jobs in sport. It's a world of factions, back-biting and petty jealousies played out against a backdrop of a fanatical devotion to the game at home.

They were burning effigies of Woolmer and captain Inzamam ul-Haq in the streets of Multan on Saturday night. Woolmer's empty apartment was stoned, and there were demands for his and the players' financial assets to be frozen.

As an insight into a person's life, the last few days in Jamaica have been revealing.

Likewise, the tawdry scenes in the hours following his tragic death sometime on Sunday morning told us more than we need to know about the inner workings of Pakistan cricket.

On Thursday at 1pm, I met Bob Woolmer for lunch to talk cricket. The resulting article ran in last Saturday's Irish Times. Woolmer was good value as an interviewee, generous with his time and keen to talk about a whole range of issues, from Ireland's future through to a book he had just finished writing about coaching the game. He was awaiting the manuscripts to come back from the publishers.

After the interview, the discussion moved on to his role as Pakistan coach. He was angry at the sniping comments made by the media in Pakistan and by former players Imran Khan and Javed Miandad, in particular.

"My greatest achievement as Pakistan coach has been to remain in the job for three years," he said. "Anyone can be negative, that's easy, you've only got to read the blogs and the rubbish they write in the papers to see that. I won't let them destroy my enthusiasm for the game. I enjoy cricket and they don't.

"Javed Miandad criticises, but he got kicked out three times, so obviously he was doing something wrong. Imran Khan should get down off his high horse and help if he really cared about Pakistan cricket."

Fast forward to Friday evening. Another journalist and I were sitting at one of the bars in the lower part of the hotel when Woolmer came in and sat down. He invited us to the Pakistan pre-match cocktail party that evening.

When I arrived at the reception just after 6pm the room was a quarter full. On one side of the room, sitting on the chairs that lined the wall, were some of the Pakistan players, mainly squad members who were not due to play in the fixture the next day against Ireland. With them were a number of journalists from the Pakistan press and some team officials.

Sitting alone on the other side of the room in a corresponding line of chairs was Bob Woolmer. In the middle, greeting people as they came in, was Pervez Jamil (PJ) Mir, the Pakistan media manager and former TV host. We were to see much more of him over the next 48 hours.

With a couple of Irish journalists I went over to sit next to Woolmer, and we were joined in conversation by Roy Torrens, the Ireland team manager, and Robin Walsh, formerly head of BBC Northern Ireland, who writes about cricket for the Belfast Telegraph.

After a short time, Torrens and Walsh said their goodbyes, joking about who would win the big game the next day.

"There is a difference," said Woolmer. "You would like to win. We need to win."

The atmosphere then turned from that of a pleasant, light-hearted occasion to something less attractive. A couple of the Pakistan journalists crossed the divide to question Woolmer about team selections. This was done in an astonishingly aggressive way. The relationship between Woolmer and the journalists was overtly hostile.

"They're spies for Javed or Imran," he said. "It doesn't matter what I tell them, they go off and write whatever they want to."

What are the libel laws like over there? I asked him, half-joking.

He almost spat out his drink with mock derision. "You must be kidding! They don't exist. It would take 10 years."

After a while Woolmer became agitated at the requests for interviews from the Pakistan journalists. "I've done my bit, get someone else to do it," he told Mir, and walked away.

The next morning was match day. Woolmer was interviewed on TV before the game.

"Ireland are probably the best of the Associates and a potential banana skin. Coach Adrian Birrell has done a tremendous job. The ICC wants an Associate nation to cause an upset. I just hope it's not us."

Of course, the game resulted in a thrilling win for Ireland. The TV cameras showed Woolmer packing his computer in to his bag at the end of the game.

At the press conference 30 minutes later, Woolmer sat at the top table alongside captain Inzamam ul-Haq and Mir.

Woolmer was witty and honest in his appraisal of the game.

The inevitable questions came in about his future in the job. "I'd like to sleep on that one," he said.

Inzy spoke in Urdu, with Mir as interpreter. The atmosphere was understandably tense. Inzy was sullen, although he made a nice joke. When asked what sort of reception he would receive when he got home, he said, "Oh, I don't think they'll be a reception."

Woolmer laughed, "That's very good," he said.

After a quarter of an hour, they stood up and Woolmer left the press area via the side door. That was the last time I saw him.

The next morning, the hotel breakfast area was quiet. The Irish team and supporters had gone to Ochos Rios after the game for the big St Patrick's Day celebration. Ochos Rios is where most of the players' wives and girlfriends have been staying this past week.

At around 11.30am I got a call from The Irish Times office. Bob Woolmer had been taken to hospital, did I know anything about it? I tried to contact PJ Mir, with no success. His phone rang off to voice mail. The newswires were all running the story.

As I was making more calls, the stunning news came through that Woolmer had died.

Journalists were beginning to gather in the lobby of the hotel, and several news camera crews arrived.

Mir arrived in a BMW to read a brief statement. Dressed all in white, he stood in front of the hotel, tape recorders, radio mikes and TV cameras surrounding him. He then walked back into the hotel, followed by the posse of reporters.

He waved to the reporters from BBC Five Live who had tried to pre-arrange an exclusive interview with him. But the other journalists followed them down to the side of the swimming pool, where an interview took place.

In answer to a question as to how Woolmer had been found, Mir described the scene in the coach's hotel room in exceptionally graphic terms, far more than would be considered appropriate for a PR man fielding questions a couple of hours after the sudden death of a well known person. It was utterly gratuitous and insensitive.

Following the interview the journalists dispersed to write up the story, the useable details running in yesterday's papers.

Later on, I was sitting with a cricket writer from the Times, in the lobby of the hotel.

PJ Mir walked past. "You two are media, right?" he said. "Big press conference, 6.30 in the room at the front."

What's it about? I asked him, and told him that, given the time difference to home, we would not be able to get the story in the next day's (yesterday's) paper.

He ignored me.

He went to get in to the lift and I sidled in next to him.

"I'm not telling you anything, you'll have to wait for this. It's huge. A massive story," he said animatedly. His eyes were lit up with the excitement and he smiled and winked at me before getting out of on the second floor.

By 6.30, the hotel lobby was a media scrum. Mir's PR strategy had worked. The world's press had gathered to get this "huge story". The talk outside was of Pakistan dropping out of the tournament as a mark of respect for their dead coach.

The Pakistan team, led by PJ Mir, walked in in single file past us. They were followed shortly afterwards by the prime minister of Jamaica, who had come to console the players. More cameras, more flashlights.

Then, the conference began. Incredibly, it was to announce that Inzamam was to retire as captain of Pakistan's one-day team. Woolmer's death was almost glossed over in the rush to get the "big story" out.

How can this be news, a few short hours after Woolmer had died? Surely this could have waited.

The tone of the conference jarred. When someone dies, sport becomes an irrelevance.

But here we were, with journalists asking questions about greatest memories, high points, great innings.

One question summed it up. "This may sound insensitive, but with Bob Woolmer gone, would it have been better to stay in the job for the sake of stability?"

All routine stuff, had it not been for the fact that their coach, a person who lived and breathed Pakistan cricket for the last three years, had died in tragic circumstances just hours before. Already the story was of succession.

Soon after, the circus that is the Pakistan cricket team upped and left the room. The story is out there, Inzamam ul-Haq has resigned. Big deal.

Bob Woolmer was a good man, he deserved better.

Bob Woolmer's postmortem should be carried out within the next 24 hours, according to Jamaica police deputy commissioner Mark Shields, who revealed Woolmer's widow, Gill, had agreed to it.

Reports have suggested that Woolmer suffered from diabetes and had recently experienced breathing difficulties.