Robert Dillon: 20 years of Sporting Declaration

The subject matter was Wests Tigers' decision to hire three-time premiership winner Tim Sheens as their new head coach, and it was published in this newspaper on August 3, 2002.

Twenty years ago this weekend, in other words.

Anniversaries don't roll around every day of the week, and it's fair to say plenty has changed over the past two decades.

For starters, this column was originally christened "Seven Days in Sport", and it wasn't until a couple of years down the track that I suggested something slightly more imaginative.

"What about 'Sporting Declaration'?" I said one night to my sports editor, Kevin Cranson.

Kev raised an eyebrow, recognising a double entendre that cricket lovers might appreciate, and when I picked up the next Saturday's edition, Sporting Declaration it was.

A few years later, I recall our pages underwent a bit of a makeover/revamp, and some genius manager/editor type thought they'd change it to "Sporting Chance".

Over my dead body, was how I responded.

It might surprise you to learn that Seven Days in Sport/Sporting Declaration is actually an adopted child, rather than my own flesh and blood.

When it was born, one of my colleagues was handed the gig.

But his columns were intermittent. Depending on his workload, he would fill the space when required with agency/wire copy, and resume normal service a week or two later.

I think I waited until he took holidays and volunteered to fill the breach. By the time he returned from leave, it was a case of possession being nine-tenths of the law.

In those days, it was the highlight of my working week, to be honest.

I'd returned to the Herald from the Canberra Times after accepting a job as a sports sub-editor, and was eager to learn that side of the trade. But within a year, the novelty had worn off. There were only so many typos I could fix and headlines I could write before I started to wonder if this was all I'd be doing for the rest of my career.

The column gave me a chance to contribute something a bit more meaningful. It was the only thing I had to write each week, and I put my heart and soul into it. If the subs changed a single word, I'd be filthy.

Week in, week out, I had a blank canvas and the latitude to fill it pretty much however I liked.

At the start, I probably opted for national and international sporting issues, not wanting to tread on the toes of my colleagues who covered rounds full-time.

My first offering, as mentioned, was singing the praise of Sheens, who I got to know when we were both in Canberra in 1996. To this day, he remains by far the smartest coach with whom I've dealt.

The next week, from memory, I wrote about how the inclusion of Bangladesh as a Test nation was devaluing international cricket. Twenty years on, they've improved slightly, but any progress has been painfully slow.

Eventually I started to focus more on local issues, in particular the Jets and the Knights, which hopefully are of more interest to the Novocastrian faithful.

Some weeks it's easy, if there's a subject that just jumps out and demands to be explored.

Other weeks, it's like pulling teeth, especially if I'm undecided about two particular topics. Those times it seems to take forever.

I'm never satisfied, incidentally, with the finished product.

It all got a bit harder in 2007, when I switched back from sub-editing to reporting. Suddenly it wasn't my sole writing outlet and was in competition with whatever news stories, match reports or features I also needed to file in any given week.

Most of it is actually compiled on my bike, you might be surprised to learn.

According to my Strava GPS data tracker, I cycle on average eight hours, 17 minutes a week. And as every cyclist knows, you need to fill your head with something other than just your iTunes playlist.

The lead paragraph, or intro, is obviously the key. But as a wise colleague once told me, the second paragraph is often the most elusive.

Another colleague reckoned I had the best job in the joint. "You get paid to give people your opinion," he said. Funnily enough, I'd never really looked at it that way. I just try to write something I hope readers might find remotely interesting.

For a while, I tried flippant, satirical columns, starting out in 2003, when I declared the cricket World Cup in South Africa had been so boring and predictable, it was time to bring back John the bookie and his match-fixing mates.

That phase didn't last long. It was too time-consuming, trying to think up one-liners. Clearly you need to be smarter than me to be a smart-arse.

Over the course of 20 years, I must be getting up towards 1000 columns, which amounts to 900,000 words or thereabouts.

One day in the not-too-distant future, touch wood, I'll go past the one million milestone.

It seems 20 years has gone all too quickly. If, as they say, time flies when you're having fun, I guess I must be enjoying it.

Hopefully the same applies to you, my readers.

If that's not the case, unfortunately it's a bit late to do anything about it now.