The atmosphere at poolside at the upmarket hotel in Caracas, Venezuela was far tenser than usual.

“Hey you!” bellowed George Foreman, the undefeated heavyweight champion of the world. “Put that out.”

Surprised by the demand, a 38-year-old from the east end of London standing a few yards away, lowered his cigarette and turned to face Foreman.

“Say please,” grinned Colin Hart, without missing a beat and certainly not showing an ounce of fear despite the surge of it through his veins.

The year was 1974 and Foreman was a few days away from defending his world heavyweight title against Ken Norton at the Poliedro de Caracas. The small British press pack, including Hart - or Harty to the other gentleman on the boxing beat, had arranged a sit-down with Foreman in order to glean some quotes for their preview pieces.

Foreman didn’t much want to do it but the press pack harangued his publicist, Bill Caplan, until he finally agreed. “Fine,” he said. “Be at the pool in his hotel at 2pm.” The invitation, however, mentioned nothing about a no-smoking policy.

Harty had eventually agreed to stub the cigarette out in order to get the interview going with Foreman, who wore his trademark denim dungarees without bothering with a shirt underneath. It had been an inauspicious start to their relationship and things were about to get worse between Hart and Foreman.

“Don’t tell me you’re proud of knocking out poor old Jose Roman,” Hart said, in reference to Foreman’s two-minute blitz of the 196 1/2lb challenger in Japan six months earlier. Hart swears at this point, a giant hand was raised with an open palm by Foreman, who was about to slap the British hack for such disrespect. In jumped Bill to break things up.

A few days later, Foreman would crush Norton inside two rounds to set up a showdown with Muhammad Ali in Kinshasa and the next act in Hart’s relationship with Foreman would unfold. Few people in the world picked Ali to win and nobody from the British press did - except Hart.

When Big George was felled in that unforgettable eighth round, up jumped Hart on press row punching the air. “It was the first and last time I acted unprofessionally at ringside,” Hart later said.

Hart was a legend of the pack that night and, as was customary at the time, received what was known as a ‘herogram’ from his sports editor, Frank Nicklin, which was a gesture reserved for a masterstroke pulled by a reporter. Hart was buzzing until he read it: “Why wrong round?” Nicklin had written in a reminder to Harty not to let it go to his head.

Some years later, Hart is in Houston, Texas covering another fight. As he walks up the steps into his hotel, he encounters Bill Caplan, arms wide, pleased to see him. “I’d like to arrange a lunch tomorrow with an old friend of yours,” Bill says. “Oh really, who’s that then?” Hart replies. “George Foreman,” he is told.

Harty waves it off, insisting that he doesn’t like George and George doesn’t like him. Bill says to leave it with him and that the former world heavyweight, now retired in the wake of his 1977 defeat to Jimmy Young, is a different man.

The next day, Colin is in the lobby of the same hotel squeezing in a cigarette before heading out. “Hey you,” says the voice, familiar but far less threatening. “Put that out.”

This time, on turning around, he is greeted by a huge smile and an outstretched hand. Caplan was right, there are no hard feelings. They have a magnificent lunch and Hart pockets the sort of interview which might have secured a herogram in days gone by.

Fast forward to 1995 and the pair are in Las Vegas, both on business, albeit of different nature: Foreman to fight Axel Schulz at the MGM Grand and Hart to cover his old friend in action.

But during fight week, Bill tells Hart to head to Caesar’s Palace because Foreman wants to give him a signed copy of his new book, By George. Up he heads to the room where he is greeted by Foreman clutching a copy. When Hart opens it up, he notices a handwritten message on the inside.

“To Colin,” it reads. “Put that cigarette out! From the champ, George Foreman.”

Foreman was a heavyweight legend of the ring, Hart was a heavyweight legend of the press box. Foreman was the longest surviving member of that scarcely believable triumvirate of him, Ali and Joe Frazier. Hart was the last of those British writers ringside at the Rumble in the Jungle to go. Their longevity in their respective fields was unmatched and the boxing world will miss them both terribly.