I was covering the European Eventing Championships in France on Sunday when it became clear that I wasn’t going to have time for a proper sit-down tea. So I rang the office and explained. “Oh God,” the sports editor said, audibly shaken. “We can’t have that. Just don’t bother to write. I couldn’t sleep if I thought that writing for The Times got between you and your tea.”

As a matter of fact, that is a lie. Instead, I worked on the insane assumption that it was more important to file my copy on time than it was to have a nice cup of tea. Naturally, I expected a medal, but for some reason, my heroism and self-denial went unnoticed at Times HQ. Bastards. I didn’t even have a biscuit.

Now cricket umpires want more time for their own tea, so they can have a nice sit-down. And I sympathise. Of course I do. Umpiring is a seriously hard job. I remember when I was covering the Ashes series in the summer. Time and again, people would say to me: “What a great day of cricket! I mean, wasn’t that umpire great?”

Well, no, they didn’t, actually. For some strange reason, people were more interested in the cricketers. Truth is, umpires are relatively low down the list of things that people come to the cricket to see.

A sport’s first duty should be to ensure the best form of sport possible. The second duty of a professional sport is to look after the punters, those in the ground and those watching on television.

Officials have their part to play in both these duties. Like not taking the players off for every drop of rain and every dark cloud. Like not making unprovable allegations of ball-tampering. Like not putting their own comfort before the requirements of spectacle.

I understand that 40 overs each way makes for a long day, especially with a mere 20-minute break. But it means spectators get a lot of action, which is good. In televised matches, there will be a third umpire to make line decisions: if standing for all that time is such a fag, the team of three umps can take turns and turn about.

Now, umps tend on the whole to be good eggs and their relationships with players tell us that perpetual warfare between teams and officials is not a necessary state of affairs. But they are way off the pace on the question of tea.

Modern sport is not a leisurely activity in which you can keep gentlemen’s hours. It has an urgent need to meet the market in the right and appropriate way; that is to say, by providing great sport. Sport is about action, not biscuits. Sport is not about the convenience of officials, they are there to stand and serve. The fact is that sport gets harder and harder for players, and harder and harder for officials. That’s rather the point.

Ah, life, life — you know, some days are so hard that you just don’t have time for a nice cup of tea and a good sit-down. I suppose it’s one of those brutal facts that we all have to face at some time.