Inside the Bizarre world of Gordon Smart

Gordon Smart sits on the sofa in his bare office in a corner of The Sun's newsroom and pauses for a moment to consider the possible damage to his carefully nurtured relationship with Guy Ritchie, the film-maker and husband of the most famous female entertainment star on earth.

"I have weighed it up," says the young editor of The Sun's "Bizarre" showbiz column, "and I think, or I hope anyway, that when the dust settles we'll be able to have a pint and it won't even be mentioned."

Downstairs at the security gate of News International's headquarters in Wapping, east London, a copy of that morning's edition has been mounted in a glass frame for the benefit of visitors. "Madonna: Guy's a Gold-Digger", screams the front page, a "World Exclusive by Gordon Smart, Bizarre Editor". Madge, it claims, has told a pal "he wants to take, take, take". So what are you drinking Guy? Cheers!

Not long ago Smart, 28, was sat beside Ritchie for an exclusive preview of the director's latest movie, RockNRolla, and the journalist admits he lost some sleep over reporting the film-maker's marital problems. "Somebody from the paper rang me last night and said, 'Do you think you should have your name on it? Is this going to wind Guy up? And I said 'I've got to do it, it's my job, he'll understand'."

The story is one of a string of follow-ups to Smart's splash the previous week, "Madonna & Guy: We're Divorcing", a scoop that went round the world. To others in the showbiz press pack, it was a gift, a phone call from one of Madonna's people. Fingers were pointed at the singer's legendary UK publicist, Barbara Charone, by the enemy Daily Mirror, which had already reported during the summer that the Ritchie marriage was in peril. Smart says his story was no mere tip-off but "a great team effort", crediting his reporting colleagues Virginia Wheeler and Emma Cox and the diplomatic skills of senior executives. "It all came together, a bit of good-cop bad-cop, some persistence and some patience," he says, hinting at a negotiating process to rival the Good Friday Agreement. Crucial, was an official statement from the couple the following day, confirming the story's truth. "It was either 'it's over' or it really wasn't a story," says Smart. "People have been writing that Madonna and Guy aren't in a happy relationship since 2001. The Mirror had a sniff of something earlier in the year, but that line about the announcement was a killer blow. That was definitive and we were well ahead of the competition."

As soon as The Sun's first edition dropped, Sky News sent a camera crew to Smart's south London home. It was a rare night when Smart was not out on the town schmoozing celebrities and their publicity agents. "I was looking forward to having a relatively sober night, but from then onwards it was probably the busiest week of my professional life."

He had to endure "nervous hours" before Madonna's representative Liz Rosenberg released a statement the following afternoon, co-signed by a representative of Ritchie's. But by that evening, when Smart – a Scot – arrived dressed in a kilt at the London Press Club ball at the Natural History Museum, he was the man of the moment. "Thank God it was true," he joked.

This is what Smart has always wanted, from the time he worked on his school's newspaper in Kinross, digging for dirt in the staff common room. At 18, he left school on a Friday and started work the following Monday at DC Thomson, the great Scottish publishers, cutting his teeth on The Courier and Evening Telegraph titles in Dundee. After only three months, he left to go to Edinburgh's Napier University, where Smart studied journalism but was more interested in nightlife, promoting a successful club night called Shark, to which he enticed soap stars, Scottish footballers and singers such as Sophie Ellis Bextor. "It was really valuable because it taught me how to run a team and honed my talents interviewing people, because you spent all your time talking to people in the bar," remembers Smart.

His then girlfriend (now his wife of five years) was studying at Laine Theatre Arts, Victoria Beckham's fame academy almer mater, and persuaded him to try his luck down south. "I thought the streets were paved with gold and I'd walk into a job. But I didn't, it was really difficult. I ended up coaching football in Surrey," says Smart, who in his youth played against Scotland striker Kenny Miller.

Serious injuries helped drive him back to reporting and he returned to Edinburgh to work for the news agency Deadline Scotland. "It was tough, knocking on doors and asking for pictures of dead kids, doing all of the jobs that no one else wanted to do, shifts for the Daily Mail and Mail on Sunday, badgering people on doorsteps. All the time my wife was in London, so it was a really hard time in my life," he says, making one of many references to the support he has received from his partner.

His break came in November 2003 when the MTV Awards rolled into the Scottish capital and with them the big guns of Fleet Street's showbiz columns. "I could get them into all the nightclubs. My phone was ringing saying "Timberlake's here, Kylie's here". I really cleaned up on stories that night," he says. "That night we were all sat drinking in the Balmoral and Polly Graham (then of the News of the World) said do you want to come and work for me in London?"

On his first day he was asked if he'd like a drink. "They poured me a full cup of Tia Maria. That was at 10am on a Tuesday morning."

Months later he transferred to sister paper The Sun to work for then Bizarre editor Victoria Newton. He says his hard news experience has helped. "There's this stigma attached to being a showbiz reporter and a lot of news desks think we are idiots, chancers and freeloaders who haven't done the graft to earn the position."

In November last year, as editor Rebekah Wade restructured her team, Newton was promoted and Smart was given Bizarre, filling a seat previously filled by Piers Morgan (later editor of the Daily Mirror and member of the TV talent show judiciary), Andy Coulson (Tory party communications chief), Matthew Wright (chat show host) and Dominic Mohan (associate editor on The Sun). "When I started off it played on my mind quite a lot, because I know how successful they've all become," says Smart, who mentions that he wrote Newton's goodbye column ("she was abroad when it all clicked into action").

To mark out his new regime, he began his first column with a "Here's My Manifesto" pledge, in which he promised less coverage of shallow American stars such as Paris Hilton and more stories about credible British talent.

"I felt that a lot of the showbiz columns had become incredibly bitchy, they were dominated by gur-rls," he says with a burr. "I thought it was time to do it differently. I was quite keen to write positive copy as well, I felt that people were unnecessarily negative."

Gossip websites, which are less likely to encounter libel law, have cornered the market in unfettered sniping. A more positive approach is a strategy that helps Smart build long-term relationships. "It works a treat. If you can champion a film, actor or a band they will really look out for you. People realise I'm not a vindictive person and will respect off-the-record conversations. Long term, I think a lot more is going to come your way and it's certainly easier to look into people's eyes the next time you see them rather than staring at your shoes feeling guilty for stitching them up," he says.

"[Director] Shane Meadows isn't someone you'd really associate with appearing in The Sun but I thought This is England was great and full of British talent, so I got right behind it and ended up becoming really good friends with some of the cast. That opened doors to other camps like the Guy Ritchie camp, which has turned out to be really useful recently." Smart has also given his support to bands such as Glasvegas, Kasabian and The Enemy.

It doesn't always work. Robbie Williams had him thrown out of a Los Angeles restaurant (where Smart was apparently dining innocently with friends), after finding out he was a Sun reporter. The rapper Jay-Z prodded Smart in the chest and denounced him as an "unbeliever" for criticising his Glastonbury performance. Jaime Winstone mouthed swear-words at him backstage at an Oasis gig, though he says she was unable to cite the spiteful stories she claimed he had written about her. As the most high profile of British showbiz writers he says he regularly gets blamed for barbed comments made elsewhere.

He portrays his fellow showbiz reporters as a miserable crew. "I always just did my own thing and didn't bother with hanging around with them, diving into all the moaning and negativity. Because I just thought it was brilliant, I couldn't believe I was getting free drinks and going to amazing bashes, film and music awards, things I'd only read about in Scotland."

Smart is proud of his place on the conveyor belt of Scottish reporters in Fleet Street. He suggests that celebrities might prefer talking to him because "someone from Scotland might seem a little bit more interesting than the people they normally talk to" though he is no Jimmy Boyle figure (his father is a GP and his mother a teacher).

In the tradition of Bizarre, Smart always dresses his best when he is out on the town. With his trademark long fringe and sideburns he is usually seen at gigs wearing a suit. Anne Robinson once told him he was supposed to be a pop columnist, "not an estate agent". But, Smart by name and nature. "People think we kick about in our jeans all day, but I turn up to most gigs looking like I'm in the CID."

Sun veterans such as star reporter John Kay – who berates Smart for wearing a cardigan in the office – would approve. Smart maintains he "fits in" at the paper, but then says the demands are so high he is effectively working seven days a week. "It does mean that you could have a short shelf life," he observes.

It is past 8pm and, first thing the next morning, Smart must be at the airport to catch a flight to New York for an interview with the Welsh singer Duffy, another act he has championed and another client of Charone, or "BC" as Smart calls her.

"I will be with Barbara Charone who also does Madonna, so it's an apt time to be going over there, getting her incredibly drunk," he laughs. "Madonna is in New York, her publicist is in New York and her US publicist is in New York. If I have a chance to sit down and have a dinner with them that's an open goal and I've got to make the most of it."

He shoots, he scores.