Farewell to Mike Dickson, a shoe-leather reporter

Tennis journalism lost one of its most reputable and independent voices at the Australian Open this week. Mike Dickson, a hard-working, popular fixture in press rooms around the world for over three decades, collapsed and died while covering the Australian Open for the paper where he spent almost his entire career, the UK’s venerable Daily Mail.

Dickson’s wife Lucy made the announcement on Wednesday. Mike was just days from celebrating his 60th birthday, and leaves behind Lucy and their three children. He will be sorely missed by many of us in ways that are both professional and personal. His death is another hole in the rapidly shrinking world of traditional journalism—and in many a spirit.

Mike was a member of that endangered species once commonly known as the “shoe-leather” reporter: the kind that is less concerned with flowery writing and expressing deep thoughts than with digging away to unearth stories, working on his sources, and always—but always—on the prowl to score an “exclusive,” or scoop. This is an especially pronounced feature of working for the British tabloids, of which the Daily Mail is one.

This can be rough work, considering the way the British sporting press is obliged by necessity to work and travel in a pack, yet its constituents are expected by their editors to beat the competition on the newsstand playing field. While there are legendary tales of chicanery and backstabbing by competing reporters, I don’t think Mike was ever implicated in one. That’s partly because the Daily Mail is a far-reaching tabloid (as opposed to a “broadsheet,” like the Times of London), but not a very sensation-oriented one. That detail accounts for the only conflict I ever had with Mike.

Many years ago, the huge kick I’ve always gotten out of the British press led me to write a lengthy feature about that alternately bombastic, mortifying, and clever brigade for now-defunct Tennis Magazine. I included many quotes from various tabloid outlets, but neglected to include any snippet from Mike. At the next US Open, he accosted and called me out for ignoring his work. I tried to explain that I didn’t consider him a tabloid newshound, but a traditional, principled journalist. He felt overlooked and, given the kind of backbiting and score-keeping that went on in the tabloid press, the omission stung him.

We got over that embarrassing episode fairly quickly and developed a warm, collegial relationship. It was partly due to similar world views that didn’t need to be articulated. They were implicit in our conversations about various players, or the actions of tennis bureaucrats, or even family dynamics. Colleagues, as well as the people Mike wrote about, were fond of him and unsparing in their praise.

Oliver Holt, the Mail’s chief sportswriter, replied to Lucy Dickson on X/Twitter: “I am so sorry for your loss. Mike was a great man. He was also a wonderful, valued colleague, brilliant, funny, laconic company and a hugely talented journalist who was admired by everyone who worked with him and read his work.”

“Crushing news,” wrote the Daily Telegraph’s Simon Briggs. “Dicko (the oh-so-British diminutive bestowed on Dickson by his colleagues) was the doyen. More importantly, a very special human being. We will all miss him terribly.”

Liam Broady, the British ATP pro, cut to the essence of Dickson’s character when he tweeted: “Don’t know what to say. A strong, good and fair man. Cared about me when I was at my lowest ebb. Rest well Mike.”

Strong. Good. Fair. You will be missed, Mike.