My first recollections of sport would be playing football or cricket with my dad and brother in the garden, or anywhere we could run around. It was difficult playing cricket on your own, unless you were bowling, and when I was younger I was fast but wayward. At some stage I realised I wasn’t a natural bowler, but I could bat a bit.

Cricket really took off for me through one of my teachers, Mr Plomer, who then asked me to come back and coach some of the younger kids. Looking back, that might have been where the seeds of me teaching were sewn.

By the time I was 15, I was playing for Arbroath and quite soon found myself facing the great Pakistan spinner Abdul Qadir, who was playing for Stenhousemuir. I recall blocking him out for an over, which was a bit of an achievement. One or two of my team-mates will say I never did anything else but block.

Progressing through the ranks, I made it into the Scotland team for the first time in 1990, and by ’95 was captain. Cricket in Scotland had really moved on by then. There were players who represented Scotland forty years ago who had careers similar to mine in terms of longevity, but who just didn’t get anything like the trips, tours, invitations and opportunities that were awarded to me and the rest of the team at that time.

I always appreciated those opportunities, because there were even County players at that time who just didn’t get the chance to rub shoulders against some of the all-time greats of international cricket – Gilchrist, Waugh, Brian Lara, Wasim Akram - or play representative cricket at the Commonwealth Games in 1998, or at a World Cup, like 1999.

As captain, you were always on call and always at the centre of things. It was hard going at times, especially around that World Cup when I had to attend a photoshoot with Caprice. Honestly, it did happen. But joking aside, it was a fantastic privilege.

Cricket, obviously, was a summer sport, although playing at international level, the season could last a while. Through the winter, I’d always been playing football with Arbroath Vics. But by 2001, I’d stopped playing serious cricket and football – some will say I never played football seriously – but even playing amateur games was becoming harder, which is why I took up running.

At the same time, an old referee said I should maybe think about refereeing. I’d been doing the odd rugby match at school, but I hadn’t a clue what was going on in rucks and scrums. Getting back to something I knew seemed the safer option, so I went on an SFA course to become a football official, and, found myself moving through the ranks – although some would still say that, like rugby, I didn’t have a clue what was happening. And that, trust me, was among the kinder things said to me.

I suppose when you start, you have the dreams and ambitions of doing big games, or cup finals, or internationals, or Old Firm games. I can’t say I was disappointed in what I achieved, getting to do the Petrofac Cup final between Rangers and Peterhead, which I managed to get through, controversy free!

But that level of scrutiny, the examination of everything you do, is something that can wear guys down, regardless of how enthusiastic or good you might be. A call you could have made in a lesser game could have been incorrect, but it was over and done with there and then. But televised matches mean even the slightest error could be looked at over and over again, for days on end. And even for the top referees, that is tough, because all you are trying to do is a decent job; no-one sets out to deliberately upset players, managers or fans.

The whistle was put away - not before time I can hear folk muttering at home - when I moved up to be first acting Head, then Head Teacher at George Watson’s Junior School. And with that went my ambitions of doing an Old Firm game.

Do I envy Willie Collum? No, not really, although I may give him and his team of officials passing thought when I pass the 20-mile marker at the London Marathon, which I’ll be competing in for the eighth time.

My best time was 2.59, and I did 3.04 last year, but having done a hamstring a few weeks ago, which meant I didn’t run at all during March, three-anything will be an achievement. If I do it, I’ll have been helped greatly by a mixture of adrenalin and paracetamol.

Having always been involved in team sports, running is all about you, both putting the work in, and, mentally on race day. Sunday will be my 26th marathon in total. Madness, some might think. But some would think the same about facing the very best fast bowlers Australia or Pakistan had to offer, or the wrath of an angry SPFL manager.

Actually, running marathons is quite sensible by comparison.