By MONTE DUTTON

The hereafter is where old race fans debate the merits of Curtis Turner, Junior Johnson and Fireball Roberts. Some young NASCAR fans weren’t born when Dale Earnhardt met his maker. Jimmie Johnson, Jeff Gordon and Rusty Wallace have their adherents, not to mention those of my age who also recognize the splendid skills of Bobby Allison, Cale Yarborough and Darrell Waltrip.

However, I can only go by what I know.

It’s fun for me to come to grips with Mike Hembree’s Petty vs. Pearson: The Rivalry That Shaped NASCAR because it’s a splendid analysis of what may be my favorite subject and because I’m close to it.

I know The King, though I haven’t seen him in years. I knew The Silver Fox. Seeing him was one of my favorite pastimes.

Everyone has a right to his or her own opinion, but comparing The King with The Silver Fox is on the same plane as Mays vs. Mantle, Bird vs. Magic, Brady vs. Manning or grits vs. hash browns.

I saw a lot of Richard Petty and David Pearson during the two decades (1993-2012) when my job was writing about NASCAR, though not as much as my longtime friend Hembree, which is why his 233-page masterpiece is definitive. We can compare notes, but his were written down.

They were, in my view, the best, and by any informed view, among them.

I never had a harder time controlling my temper than on a radio show once when its host misrepresented my view.

“Our next guest,” he said, “is a longtime NASCAR reporter who recently wrote that Jeff Gordon is the greatest driver who ever lived.”

“I did not write that,” I said. “What I wrote is that Gordon deserves to be considered among the sport’s all-time greats.”

This was probably around 2000.

“Well, who do you think is the greatest NASCAR driver?” the host asked.

“David Pearson,” I said.

“Well, who the hell is that?”

I very nearly hung up. Instead, I cited some of Pearson’s accomplishments in as sarcastic a tone as I could politely muster. I think it’s fair to say that the irritation was reflected in my voice, and I was happy that fellow never called me again.

Petty was the greatest figure in the history in NASCAR. He did more to popularize the sport than anyone. The King went anywhere and did anything to spread the word.

When I was in grade school, he posed for a photo with me and my brother in the pits of Greenville-Pickens Speedway, long after a race he didn’t win was over. No one who ever got his autograph, and there were literally millions, failed to be impressed by it. Every time Petty signed an autograph, he accompanied it with bold circles and flourishes.

I chuckled, reading Hembree’s book, when it was noted that Petty filled out an early information form from NASCAR by listing as his hobby “penmanship.”

Petty vs. Pearson is full of such insights, most of which I knew but some of which I didn’t. The two were very different men who liked and respected each other. That, in itself, is rare among athletes

I thought Pearson was halfway between Petty and Dale Earnhardt. Like Earnhardt, Pearson came up in the environment of a Carolinas textile village, but he didn’t bring to stardom with him the fierceness of Earnhardt. If Earnhardt thought someone wanted something from him, there was little chance that person would get it, whether on the track or in the media center.

Contrary to a popular misconception, Pearson was neither modest nor humble. The chip on his shoulder from Whtney Mill (Spartanburg) was that if an observer couldn’t see how great he was, Pearson didn’t have the time to tell him. The Silver Fox was easygoing and funny as hell, but I always found that I had to get him laughing to get much out of him in our interviews.

Petty took the time to explain things. An answer often began with, “Okay, here’s the deal.”

I was closer to those around them – Pearson’s sons, particularly Larry, Leonard Wood; Petty’s son Kyle, and cousin, Dale Inman – than I was to either driver.

I used to watch Spartanburg Phillies games with Larry Pearson’s family. Kyle Petty and I swapped songs we’d written a couple times in his motorcoach and once onstage in Charlotte.

But I probably never enjoyed anything in NASCAR more than shooting the bull with David Pearson.

All of this insight about two great men comes across in the words of Mike Hembree, and that’s rare in sports biographies. He illuminated things I knew and told me things I didn’t.

If you’re not young enough to have seen Petty and Pearson race, read this book. If you are, read it. The world doesn’t make ‘em like that anymore.

I held this review back a while because it goes on sale May 20. I’m confident it’s available all over, but you can order it at Amazon, along with (hint, hint) a number of books that I’ve written. Here’s a direct link to Petty vs. Pearson: The Rivalry That Shaped NASCAR.