Like most sports journalists of the era I
benefited from being in DJ Cameron's company. From the vast array of stories of
characters and news situations he had been in to the background information
provided over a meal, preceded generally by a liberal sampling of the 'wine of
the region', and then consummated with the real deal over a meal. That was of
course after all the 'tap, tap, ding' had been done and dusted. For one whose
start in the media was in the far south, the stories he could tell about people
who were out of the orbit of southerners in the games we covered, DJ was generally
able to provide a kernel or two of suitably relevant information.
Our paths first crossed when he ventured
south with Auckland's regional rugby teams as occurred regularly in the early
days of the national provincial championship. He generally arrived with
Auckland but could also appear at times with Bay of Plenty or Counties. If
there was a training session in Bluff, and that always happened when
international teams were in town, Don only had to be asked once if he wanted a
lift to the greatest opportunity to indulge in oyster eating that was very
likely. Then when visits were reciprocated, a ride to training was always
accompanied by a subtle interrogation about what might be expected from these
rugby boys from the south. Not that it ever really mattered because they have
only ever managed to win once in Auckland and that was well before my time.
But it was when we were both covering
cricket that we most came into contact with each other, me for the Evening
Post, and joined generally by Peter Bidwell from The Dominion and either John
Coffey or Geoff Longley from The Press and NZPA operators Dave Leggat, Sri
Krishnamurthi and other sundry characters. They were good days at a time when
New Zealand was generally performing well in the latter days of the Hadlee era
and with Martin Crowe still in the ascendant. The staging of the World Cup in
New Zealand and Australia in 1992 was an especially memorable time with New
Zealand playing so positively.
It was always good to watch DJ's moral
dudgeon unleashed, especially memorable was the occasion at the Basin Reserve
on the occasion it was revealed Chris Cairns had been out rather late at a
local drinking establishment. When seeking comment from the relatively new
chief executive of New Zealand Cricket, we of the assembled media were
dismissed form the late Christopher Doig's presence with what could best be
described as an operatic flourish in the grand manner of the opera singer that
he was. But DJ, who like most of us enjoyed an excellent working relationship
with Doig, chased after him and told him that the matter was going to have to
be addressed and some suitable situation was resolved. There was also the
occasion in Napier when wicketkeeper Ian Smith took issue with New Zealand's
method of dismissal against a rising star in the game Sachin Tendulkar. A very
public lunchtime spat saw DJ give as good as he got.
Don liked a bit of a singalong and in the
right circumstances, and in the right place, and Christchurch's Jolly Poacher, opposite
the Casino, was exactly that, the sing-alongs could get quite advanced. It was
just over the road from where we usually stayed at the Copthorne on Durham
Street, and at the hour at which we finished the road could generally be
negotiated with some ease. Fortunately, the other clientele never seemed to
mind because we never got into any strife and if there was a prospect of that
DJ always seemed to have a suitable calming influence.
There were times when his reactions to
change caught him out. The day we of the cricket media were flown to
Christchurch for the unveiling of the future shape of New Zealand Cricket in
the wake of the Hood Report was one particular occasion. The former, and
out-dated, workings of the board of New Zealand Cricket needed to be replaced,
but that had worked quite well for DJ over the years in terms of contacts and
suitable behind the scenes information, and it was possible to detect in his
questioning at that conference that the world he knew was slipping away. But he
wasn't going to let it go easily.
It did represent the end of an era and when
rugby went professional later that same year the die was cast and access to
players and officials that had been a way of life for generations of
journalists became significantly reduced. There were still the odd disclosures
but they became just that, odd and few and far between. But there's no doubt as
time has gone on, he had the best of it.
DJ was a wonderful servant of the New
Zealand Herald, a great travelling companion and a damned good bloke. Vale Don
Cameron.
