A day in the life of an elite umpire

Cricket, ever the technological mover and shaker, has recently allowed us to be privy to umpires' conversations during the Decision Review process. This has offered an unprecedented insight into how officials come to their conclusions, and stunned viewers with the confirmation that Billy Bowden likes the sound of his own voice quite a lot.

Not content with merely hearing Nigel Llong say, "Can you give me another angle?" supporters have demanded further information about how these fascinating creatures go about their daily lives.

Here one such official, who has asked to remain nameless, exclusively reveals the shocking nature of what our sport's elite umpires get up to on a typical day away from the ground.

7am
Tough one to start. A lot of factors to weigh up so early on. Eventually decide to hit snooze and have ten more minutes.

8am
Get dressed. Start to regret attending the ICC "Elite Umpire, Elite Fitness" training camp as trousers keep slipping down leg. Might ring Marais for advice as I recall he once had this problem.

8.30am
Go down for breakfast with my wife. She asks how many eggs I want. "Just a scrambled single, please," I say. "Okay, it's your decision," she answers. We both laugh. I like to get up from the kitchen table after every six bites and wander over to the lounge while she eats her muesli. I then return for another half a dozen munches. It's important to get your brain in gear.

10.15am
You don't get to this level of umpiring by being complacent, so even when it's not a match day, I still go through my vigorous pre-match training routine: I try to count to six while my wife puts on a Dale Steyn mask and screeches appeals at me. We then head outside and I rehearse handing her a coin while a hologram of Mark Nicholas asking Michael Clarke whether his flawless skin will be crucial at the toss is beamed into my garden. You can't take any chances in this line of work.

11.45am
Balance is essential to an elite umpire, so as it's quite windy when I put on my officiating gear and go to the park to practise signalling four leg-byes. You hear the odd bit of abuse from local teenagers - "Oi, flamingo plonker!", that sort of thing, but it's nothing compared to some of the stuff I get from the players. I remember once I gave a big name out leg-before and he stood at the crease for ten seconds and then gestured at his bat in a subtle way. Sure, he was fined his entire match fee for dissent, but people don't realise what we have to put up with. Football referees have it easy, frankly.

1pm
Lunch. Spend 40 minutes making awkward small talk with any other men in wide-brimmed hats I can find nearby.

2pm
Get asked to leave my local clothes shop again. The security staff are a bit over the top, if you ask me, chucking me out just because I tried on three jumpers by wrapping them around my waist and stood in the middle of the shop staring intently at the legs of other customers. Can't do anything these days.

3.40pm
Meet an old school friend I've not seen in years, outside a café. I walk up to him and he smiles, arms outstretched. "Ha ha. Good one," I laugh. "Eh? What? I was going to give you a hug." "Oh, sorry. I thought you were signalling a.... oh never mind." We decide to have tea anyway.

6pm
Finally get back home. My wife is waiting for me at the door. "Let me take your coats," she says. "Thanks, you're a keeper," I reply. "But at lot more honest than the usual ones I deal with!" We both laugh a bit again.

9pm
Watch a British comedy series called Extras. Wasn't quite what I expected, and my other half gets a bit annoyed as I like to rewind scenes I wasn't fully concentrating on. She also gets a bit miffed when I put it on pause and call Marais to get his opinion on any controversial bits, but we all have our ways.

10.30pm
"Are you tired?" "I'm a bit tired." "Well, shall we head to bed?" "Er, maybe. I'm quite tired but not exhausted. Are you tired?" "Hmm, yes pretty tired." This goes on for 15 minutes. Eventually we decide to go upstairs.