Lions man Campbell used to the hot seat

Tough guy Campbell can sometimes display a side more akin to an abashed schoolboy. Picture / Glenn Jeffrey

As Lions' media director, Alistair Campbell's Auckland schedule may not be as busy as it was for the British Labour Party, but he is definitely working. He came out of a press conference five minutes ago, late for an in-depth interview this afternoon, and at 5.30pm is due to speak at the British High Commission's Best of British festival of newspapers and magazines.

The worst thing about all of this for Campbell is that he will have to get out of his Lions tracksuit and trainers and into his high-buttoned Lions suit with the shield on the breast pocket, knot his red white and blue-striped Lions tie, and perform in front of a possibly hostile audience of local media, advertisers and businesspeople. "I'm not a suit man," he says, sighing.

Two hours later it's hard to see what that sigh was about. From his opening joke Campbell has this crowd enthralled. He approaches the lectern with a droop: "This is my idea of hell - the BBC on one side and the Guardian on the other."

And so it goes, for 10 solid minutes. Campbell stands there in his slightly crumpled suit, looking, at 48, like a slightly abashed British schoolboy, and delivers one-liners like a comedian. As a journalist, he says, he was used to ranking in popularity "just below mass murderers and just above asylum seekers" - so implying his vilification over the "sexing up" of Iraq documents affair was no big deal.

When he saved a guy who was being mugged, then gave him his name and number in case he needed more help, the response was: "You're Alistair Campbell? I hate you!"

Most surprising, there is not a heckle, a negative remark or an attack from anyone.

This tallies with what Campbell said earlier about his "notoriety" in Britain: "If people generally believed what was being said in the media I wouldn't have been able to walk down the street," he says. "Yet I never had any problems in public. Sure I got a bit of gyp but most people were very nice."

So why, after his abrupt resignation from Labour, is Campbell here in New Zealand, far from the heat, doing a job that could well be described as sexing up the Lions?

"Clive rang," he says baldly. "It was out of the blue." Campbell was running at the time, mobile on so he could text himself ideas that surface when he gets the wind in his hair.

"Do you want to go to New Zealand with the Lions?"

"Why should I do that?"

"I think it'd be a great experience."

"Yes, I'm sure it would - but what am I supposed to do?"

A couple of weeks later he accepted the job. But why?

"Because he's one of those blokes who never gives up. He makes you want to do it."

Does that mean Clive Woodward is similar to Tony Blair? Campbell leans forward, pauses and says: "They both use a lot of humour, they're both driven individuals used to getting what they want and both winners.

"And I'll tell you something else, they're good at differentiating between what matters and what doesn't."

He pauses again. "And I do like winners and people who make changes."

Right now Campbell is contenting himself with doing the job and making a "bit of a difference" to the Lions challenge.

His technique is to give the players as much space from the press as possible - ironically by giving the press the access they need to players, but with minimal disruption to their schedules. "No player has to do more than one major media thing a week." He also "helps", rather than censors, the players' columns for newspapers and magazines back home. "We can take the load off them."

Both Woodward and Campbell revel in the fact that rugby is like a religion in New Zealand. They enjoy the attention it gets, the passion of the crowds. Apart from 10 days, when he'll "slip back to the UK after the Bay of Plenty game", Campbell will attend all press conferences and oversee every request for an interview. He is also in charge of the charm offensive the Lions are mounting with the media - smoothing the way for wives, girlfriends and even Prince William.

Most of all Campbell will keep the things they want secret to stay secret - and do his bit to make sure the Lions win the series. As he says, "None of us know whether this stuff makes a difference, but Clive is convinced that getting the media right helps the players on the pitch."

A self-confessed tough guy, Campbell looks faintly amused by my questions. Yet he tackles them all, leaning forward, gesturing with his big hands and long fingers, putting his brain and body into the job.

Nothing, except where he lives, is off limits. A keen marathon and triathlon athlete, he's enjoying working with elite sportsmen and wearing a tracksuit all day. He is also fascinated by Woodward's theories of sports coaching, despite having to curtail his famously potty mouth to make the grade. "It's one of the rules of the Lions team - no swearing in public." He thinks Woodward's book, Winning! with its theories about fitness, organisation etc, is great! "As applicable to business as to sport."

After 25 years in the media, first on the journalists' side of the fence, then on the spin side, Campbell says he has few true friends in the press. "I'm very clear with journalists: I know who my friends are, some I trust and some I like more than others - but very few are true friends. My job was to help Tony Blair and Labour - not to help the media."

What about Piers Morgan, former editor of the left-wing tabloid The Mirror, where Campbell used to be political editor, whose entries for Campbell cover almost a column in the index of his book The Insider? The book, which covers 1994-2004, reveals Campbell as, variously, "bright, focused and impressive" in 1994 and "foaming at the mouth, bullying the press" in 2002.

Says Campbell: "I'm not sure I ever was [a friend] of Piers Morgan ... I haven't read his book and I doubt if it's all true."

Campbell was brought up in Yorkshire by a vet father, who died last year, and mother who was a farmer's daughter. After his father was attacked and badly injured by a pig, the family moved to Leicester and a quieter job at the Ministry of Agriculture.

Although his main sports were soccer and athletics, Campbell did play open side flanker for his Leicester school rugby team. He even got as far as the schools trial for Leicestershire county.

Next came a degree in modern languages from Cambridge University, and writing stories for Forum magazine to make money, followed by a drift into political journalism. From the start he was left of centre, "never hid the fact" and was keen when then-Labour leader, Neil Kinnock, offered him a job. The Campbells and Kinnocks still holiday together.

This led to a personal and political relationship with Tony Blair that stretches to this day. "He and I are close. We've been through a lot together: the whole modern Labour Party, three general elections, a lot of crises, real and so-called.

"He's very, very friendly, very open and easy going. In that sort of position you kind of need to know you can completely trust the people around you."

The families are close too. Campbell and his partner, Fiona Millar (although they have been together 25 years they're not married), were friends before Blair became Prime Minister.

When he did get the top job Campbell became Blair's chief adviser and Millar, also a journalist, "who'd always advised Cherie informally", became her adviser.

Campbell, who keeps his phone on in case his kids - rather than Tony Blair - call, is "incredibly proud" of his children, Rory, 17, Calum 15 and Grace, 10. He describes how his son's politics class was discussing Campbell's role in the development of the Labour Party. "There's this guy trying to tell him what I'm about and of course he knew so much more," he says.

Was he bruised by the Iraq experience? Again he considers: "It's not nice being constantly vilified for things I didn't do. But I have a very thick skin and I'm very determined. I know what I am and I fight for it ...

"There were four inquiries and we were cleared by all of them. We left in our own time, on our own terms, having done the job for the Government we set out to do.

"On the other hand, people ringing up and putting on that kind of voice you use when somebody's died, 'how are you?', was hard to take."

COUPS AND CATASTROPHES

As British Prime Minister Tony Blair's former spin doctor, Alistair Campbell has been through many ups and downs. Here's how he rates them:

Campbell's Coups...

* His professional role in three general elections: "I know I made a difference in all three."
* Handling communications during the Irish Peace Accord: "The best single moment was leaving Belfast after the Good Friday agreement."
* Kosovo: "Because communications mattered. There was a collection of 18 democracies against Milosovic, who had total state control of his media machine, which was actually part of his military machine. He had to be very adept at dealing with that and I think I did it well."
* And without being too cheesy: "Continuing to be someone who the Prime Minister can rely on."

...and Catastrophes

* The day David Kelly died: "It was absolutely awful."
* When Peter Mandelson resigned the second time. "I'm not sure we handled that very well, I think if we'd handled it differently it would have had a different outcome."
* Media-driven crises: "I'm absolutely sick of having to deal with ridiculous frenzies in the media."