I felt compelled to begin again because Ron was one of those especially talented story tellers who kept us fascinated about sport.

Ron was largely of the past tradition of reporting sport in its short form while equally adept at telling the full story in longer formats - but after retirement he appeared comfortable in relating tales and observations via social media and his website, Sportshounds. Nothing much had changed - spending time to read them in full was worth it.

There will be some happy to advance a strong argument that Ron was a specialist in a particular sport, but for me he was the complete sports journalist - competent on just about any subject and without doubt on any that he decided to prognosticate upon.

In recent times he wrote books on Pat Cummins and Ash Barty - and a beautiful tome entitled War Games, a story reflecting among other material on his father William Cecil Reed's World War II service, including his survival of the bombing of Nagasaki where he was a prisoner of war.

Ron's work spanned the generations - one of his earlier works was on the career of 1950s tennis legend Frank Sedgman.

Ron's breadth of writing was aided and abetted by his passion for the Commonwealth and Olympic Games.

He didn't go to any of his nine Olympic Games to cover any one sport - Ron went to cover all of them, except those that ended up offering nothing he thought worth writing about.

I first encountered The Hound when embarking on my career as a sports administrator in the mid-1980s.

For a newbie to big city sports media, it was initially a scary experience.

Ron could be gruff and seemingly disinterested in just about everything you put to him.

Yet quite differently to the situation now, Ron still accepted that there was an obligation to report on whatever was news in a mainstream sport - a new event, great performances, an emerging star or simply because a national championship was just that.

But he was much happier if you added something a little quirkier, especially if you hadn't shared that with anyone else.

Ron had a massive respect for great achievers in sport, worthwhile statistics and interesting facts.

I had been keeping him up to date on how many athletics Olympic gold medallists from the Melbourne Games were still with us.

He was interested but was much keener for me to make sure that I let him know when there was only one.

Sadly I won't get that opportunity - might have to manage that sad occasion on my own.

Later our paths crossed much more frequently as we both became more interested and involved in road cycling, largely through a mutual friend John Trevorrow.

We "did" a couple of Tours de France together - Ron researching for something on the substantial side including recording Gerry Ryan's massive contribution to Australia's first Grand Tour team, Greenedge, and me trying to pen explanations of what was happening on a daily basis for those who really didn't understand how the team concept worked in cycling.

Ron was outstanding company, constantly amused by my washing of jocks and socks after we got back to a hotel after a stage and hanging then out the window to dry before we departed the next day.

Ron's solution was to take 21 of each ... and bin them daily.

One occasion when I didn't get the chance was on arrival in Andorra City at near midnight after a mountain stage finish.

We did however manage to get one of the most amazing feeds from a seemingly closed "ma and pa" restaurant.

There were around eight of us and we were able to order paprika octopus for entrée and either lamb leg or pork chops for main.

Ron roared when we shared huge platters of the octopus that kept coming and even more loudly when each was presented with a whole leg of lamb.

It was rare that we gathered thereafter without a full regaling of that evening.