What have the likes of Andrew Caddick, Dominic Cork, Jimmy Anderson, Shane Warne and myself got in common? The simple answer is that we have all, at some time or other, let out a rip-roaring, gut-wrenching, loud, unforgiving appeal.

There are many other impressive appealers. The names I have suggested spring to mind when thinking of bowlers who have pleaded to the umpire for a positive decision, certain in their own minds they have got their man. These are bowlers who know when they've got the better of the batsmen; they are the ones emerging victorious having fought and won the battle, the 22-yard duel between two players trying to outdo each other.

Actually, there is an exception to the rule. I am not a world-class bowler and have never had a 22-yard duel with any batsman, let alone an international one. I restrict my heartfelt appealing to the stands, or the safety of my living room. It is all about feeling part of the action, the hope that we may exert some small influence on the umpire in his decision-making.

'I’m especially fond of Matthew Hoggard’s appeal. It is from the heart and has all the qualities that contribute towards a rousing request for a wicket'

Appealing, especially successful appealing, is a fine art. The vital ingredients are confidence, ferocity, volume and intensity. Rarely has a decision been given as a result of a polite “How was that one, umpire?”. I used to think spin bowlers such as John Emburey and Phil Edmonds were taking the proverbial when asking for a positive verdict in this manner. For goodness sake, man, if you think you’ve got a batsman out, appeal from the bottom of your boots, demanding the umpire raises his finger.

There are, of course, various styles of appealing. One may feel the need to charge down the pitch, hands aloft, whilst doing it. One may turn to the umpire, legs planted, knees bent, falling back and with hands outstretched, pleading for the man in the white coat to give the batsmen out - Richard Hadlee comes to mind. Others may feel the need for a continual appeal. This is the plea that carries on for some time, and with some repetition, in the hope that the reward will be a Steve Bucknor-like delayed judgment.

From the comfort (sic) of the stands, or from your own armchair, the opportunities of good, honest, loud, appealing are endless. Unfortunately the chances of running with arms waving, screaming for the umpire to give a decision your way, are somewhat limited. That should not deter the amateur appealer from doing his best to try to influence the umpire in some way. After a few attempts, you may even find yourself appealing for anything and everything. Team loyalties will go out of the window as a ball thudding into a batsman’s pads will have an automatic reaction of a thunderous request for that player's head.