One of the characters who remained a part of my story for my entire time covering auto racing _ a span of 40 years _ was Anthony Joseph Foyt Jr.

AJ - Also known to his friends as Tex - was an enigma to me for all those years - my personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

In 1970, when I covered my first Indianapolis 500, AJ was the biggest star in the sport. He had already won three of his four Indy titles and had won more Indy car races than anyone else in the history of the sport.

But he was also known as a difficult guy to deal with.

My first meeting with AJ came on my first day at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. I've told the story about how longtime team owner JC Agajanian got me in to interview Foyt after I had the garage door slammed in my face.

But, once I got to AJ, he could not have been nicer or more cooperative, despite the fact that my questions were probably very uninformed and sophmoric at that point. I really knew next to nothing about auto racing in general and Indy car racing specifically.

When we were done, he even smiled and shook my hand. I had no idea that was going to be one of the best moments of our long relationship.

Trying to talk to AJ at the racetrack was often like poking a hibernating bear to see if it was really asleep.

And, much like Muhammad Ali later on, AJ was constantly saying he was going to retire and then changing his mind. Unfortunately, when he said it, I had to write it - just in case he actually meant it this time.

On one fateful afternoon, shortly after the end of that year's Indy qualifying, I was working on the race preview story for the next weekend and came to a spot that was perfect for a quote from AJ. As luck would have it, his PR lady, Ann Fornoro, was walking past my office.

I caught up with her and asked if AJ was still on the premises. She said he was packing to leave for his home in Houston, TX, but that I might catch him in the garage.

I walked into the empty garage and there was AJ, holding a duffel bag and a briefcase and obviously about to walk out the door.

"Hey, Tex, any chance I can get a quick quote from you for a story I'm working on?"

He shrugged and said, "Yeah, if it's quick."

I got the quote, thanked him and was about to walk out when he grinned and said, "You won't have AJ to kick around much longer."

That brought me back. I asked him what he meant and he replied, "This is going to be my 30th Indy 500. I like round numbers and I think this is as good a time to quit as any. I'm going to call it quits after Sunday."

I said, "AJ, are you sure about this?"

He nodded, bristled a bit and said, "I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't sure."

"Look, if I write this, it's going to be in every newspaper in America tomorrow morning," I said. "If you're not serious, tell me now."

He said, "Damn it, I said it and I meant it."

I got a couple more quotes and dashed off to write while AJ headed for his private plane.

Moments after I sent the story off to NY Sports, I got a call from the deputy sports editor.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"I'm quoting the man directly," I said. "What else can I do?"

The story ran.

Very early the next morning I was still asleep when the phone in my motel room rang. It was the sports editor of the Houston Chronicle.

"Mike, I just got off the phone with Tex and he denies the story. Says you made it up."

I said, "Hang on just a moment." I then reached over to the table and grabbed my tape recorder _ the first one I had, by the way _ and hit the play button. I held it up to the phone and listened while my brief interview with AJ played.

"Okay," he said. "I'll say he changed his mind - again. Thanks."

By that time, I had determined that AJ never lied. He just told his truth of the moment, which made it plenty hard to cover his exploits and stay out of trouble.

When Judy was working at the Indianapolis Zoo as a keeper, they had a coyote they named AJ after Foyt. That coyote ate its babies and I told Judy I was not surprised.

I often told her of the difficulties of dealing with the ornery Texan.

It did come in handy to know that AJ was the king of the Indy speedway, though.

One day I had to leave the track for a lunch interview. That meant giving up my parking space in what was then a very small media parking area.

When I returned after lunch, the lot was full and I was turned away. I drove around the infield for a while, looking for a spot to leave the car. Nothing.

Finally, in desperation, I drove into the lot reserved for participants - drivers and crew. One of the infamous yellow shirt guards walked up to the car looking for my parking pass. I quickly rolled down the window and said, "Hey, I'm just running an errand for AJ. I'll just leave the car here for a little while."

He smiled, shrugged and walked away. Problem solved. Thanks AJ.

The first year that NASCAR ran at Texas Motor Speedway outside Fort Worth, Judy was traveling with me and we were invited to a sponsorship dinner for Foyt at Billy Bob's Texas, a well known dance hall in the Fort Worth stockyards.

The party was in a private room and, through some mixup in the invitations, only a few people showed up.

When we sat down for dinner at a big, round table, I found myself sitting across from AJ. The only other people at the table were Judy, Ann Fornoro and a writer from the Dallas Morning News.

The dinner conversation was lively and, much to my surprise, AJ was in a great mood. He chatted amiably with everyone but, particularly, the ladies. He talked about his grandson, who had just begun his racing career, and his family and was about as gracious as he could be for the entire evening. 

When we parted, he shook hands with the men and hugged the ladies, all with a big smile.

On the way back to the motel, Judy looked across the car and said, "So that's the big, bad AJ Foyt that you keep telling me about."

I just shrugged.

The following racing season began with the Daytona 24 Hours (Rolex) race and Foyt was entered.

I arrived on Thursday, two days before the start of the race. It was a glorious Florida day, sunny and warm with hardly a cloud in the sky.

As I walked along pit lane, saying hello to people along the way, somebody suddenly appeared at my side, putting his arm around my shoulder and walking with me step for step. It was Anthony Joseph Foyt, Jr.

He was smiling brightly and said, "Hey, Harris, how was your winter? Are you ready for a new season? I know I am."

We walked and talked for another 100 yards or so until AJ peeled off to head for the garage area. I was hyped to think that I now had a new, cordial relationship with my old nemesis - maybe thanks to Judy.

The next morning I walked into the garage and spotted AJ standing near his car. He didn't seem to be involved in anything, so I walked up to say hi to my new pal.

"Hey, AJ. how are you doing this morning?" I said brightly. He turned to me with a cold stare and replied, "F..k off! I'm busy."

So much for our new relationship.

Near the end of 1999, I was asked by my boss to form a blue ribbon committee to determine The Driver of the 20th Century. Almost everyone I asked to be on the committee was delighted to be part of it.

Among the members were Roger Penske, Tony Hulman, Bill France Jr., Dan Gurney, Richard Petty and many more of the biggest names in the sport.

AJ wouldn't even answer my calls or messages.

When the voting ended, not surprisingly, it was a dead heat between Mario Andretti, probably the greatest all-around driver of all time, and Foyt, certainly one of the greatest competitors and biggest winners ever.

I called Mario to tell him about the vote and he was happy and grateful for the honor. As for the tie with his longtime rival Foyt, he said, "Just to be named in the same sentence with AJ is an honor. He's a great driver and one of the biggest names in the sport."

Trying to get a quote from Foyt proved more difficult. Again, he didn't return my phone calls or messages.

Finally, I called his garage in Houston and got his son, Larry, on the phone.

"Listen, your dad has receieved a big honor and I'd like to tell him about it and get a quote for the story. Any chance you could get him to call me?"

Larry said, "He's right here in the garage. Just a minute, I'll get him."

The next voice I heard was AJ.

"What do you want?" he asked sourly.

I told him I had good news and bad news.

"The good news is you've been named the best driver of the 20th century," I explained. "The bad news is you tied for the honor with Mario."

"S..t," he said. "That little (blank) couldn't carry my helmet," AJ said.

I told him what Mario had said about him and he changed his tune a bit, saying, "Well, we have had some really good races against each other and he's won a lot of races. He's a real good driver"

I managed to write a balanced story about the two of them sharing the honor.

My career in racing began toward the end of AJ's driving career. I did cover the last of his four Indy 500 wins and some other great performances, but he wasn't the consistently brilliant star of the 50's and 60's.

The best race I ever saw him run was the 1983 Daytona 24 Hours.

Foyt, who had won the 24 Hours of Le Mans with Gurney in 1967, was not a regular in sports car racing. But he entered Daytona that year as co-driver with NASCAR's Darrell Waltrip in a Nimrod Aston Martin that failed to start the race because of a mechanical problem.

AJ was packing up his gear when Preston Henn, the owner of one of the top contending Porsche 935's approached him about joining him and European drivers Bob Wollek and Claude Ballot-Lena as a co-driver.

Foyt had never even sat in a 935 when he climbed into the car on that rainy Saturday night. Wollek, who was leading the race, pitted and climbed out of the car, expecting to see Ballot-Lena ready to take over.

He was totally shocked to see Foyt put on his helmet and head for the car. As they passed, Foyt allegedly asked Wollek to describe the gear pattern. I've never been able to confirm that but, moments later, during a TV interview, Wollek totally lost it, saying, "That has-been has never driven this car, especially in the wet. He's going to cost us the race."

With that, Wollek slammed his helmet to the ground and began to walk away.

I was standing nearby and was about to go after Wollek for a quote of my own when the PA blared: "AJ Foyt has just set the fastest lap of the race."

Wollek stopped in his tracks, looked up, muttered something and shook his head. When I asked him what he thought about the situation now, Wollek, who later became Foyt's good friend, said, "Maybe I was wrong."

Foyt did a double stint _ four hours _ in the car before turning it over to Ballot-Lena. He expanded the lead from one to three laps and the team went on to win the race by six laps. It was an amazing performance and a great story.

He co-drove with Wollek and Derek Bell the next year, finishing second, then won again in 1985, sharing the cockpit with Wollek, Al Unser and Thierry Boutsen.

I got to see the softer side of Foyt late in the 2008 season after Tony Stewart announced he and Gene Haas were going to field a car for the next season in NASCAR's top stock car series using Foyt's No. 14.

Foyt was a longtime idol for Stewart, who grew up in Indiana. The two had similar driving styles and demeanor.

Stewart said he called Foyt to ask him permission to use the number, although that really wasn't necessary.

I was in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada that weekend for an Indy car race and Foyt, a longtime Indy car team owner, was there, too.

Not knowing what kind of reception I would get, I knocked on his motor home door. Foyt was in a good mood and invited me in. Television reporter Jamie Little was already there, ready to ask AJ about the Stewart story. But their conversation had apparently just begun.

She seemed happy to have me join the interview and I asked how AJ felt about Stewart requesting to use his traditional number.

Tears formed in his eyes as Foyt spoke softly and slowly about how much Tony's friendship meant to him and how honored he was to have the No. 14 on the new car.

I looked over at Jamie and, like me, she seemed stunned by AJ's emotional response.

"I know he's going to win a lot of races in that thing," Foyt said.

Without question, AJ Foyt is a legend. He is also the most frustrating person I have ever had to deal with.

I wouldn't have missed it for the world.