But meeting a legend is daunting, especially one that has won a dozen Melbourne Cups. The first time I had anything directly to do with Cummings was after a set of barrier trials at Randwick. In the old Members Stand on the wooden seats that could tell stories of their own, I sat behind Bart and his group of owners, nervously waiting for the chance to introduce myself.
He immediately put me at ease as he had done with so many before. "Come down here and sit next to me, son," Bart said. "What do you want to know?"
For a nervous 30-something reporter it was request that put me at ease but still in awe. I would get the chance to do this only a couple of times at yearling sales but it was always the same.
Here was the man, who my grandmother had told me would win the Melbourne Cup every year. My first memories of racing are of her backing Think Big in 1974 and again in '75.
He was interested in what was happening in my life. Racing was part of the conversation but not the immediate focus. But when he turned to racing you felt like you were learning something.
Cummings was quickly identifiable in Australia, his silhouette watching trackwork in Cup week was staple for the coverage. His dry wit was as legendary as his ability to train winner after winner.
He had his share of champions – Light Fingers and Galilee in the 1960s, and Leilani, Maybe Mahal and Ming Dynasty in the '70s. The '80s might not have produced a Melbourne Cup for the Cups king but Beau Zam, Campaign King and Belmura Lad were among the greats to have the Cummings polish.
There were down times – the failed syndication project, which nearly broke him in the late 1980s but it made for the Cummings renaissance in the 1990s. Let's Elope and Saintly were the champions in that period but it was So You Think that let another generation see the Cummings genius and his wit.
"If he was Mr Ed he would talk to me but he looks as good as he has looked for the past three months," Cummings said before So You Think's second Cox Plate, adding "He is a bit better than the rest."
That was Cummings, master of understatement with a sense of humour. He knew what it took to win a big race and did over and over again. His grandson James Cummings went into partnership with Bart in 2013 after being his foreman and he would update his training partner by phone as Bart's health started to fail.
"He will always ask how the Melbourne Cup horse is going," James Cummings would say. "He has always got an eye to that race."
Their best horse together, Hallowed Crown, won a Golden Rose and Randwick Guineas and James was front and centre at the track but a call for his grandfather would come soon after victory.
Cummings might have been a public figure but he was a very private man. His thoughts were measured and well regarded. To talk to him was an honour.
His long-time foreman Leon Corstens summed him up: "If you think you know Bart, you don't know Bart."
I didn't know Bart as a man. I knew him as a legend. I was lucky enough to spend a couple of moments with him that I can call my own.
