By Bob Markus

There is a scene early in the musical "1776", in which George Washington implores Congress to send him more food, more clothing, more guns and ammunition for his suffering army and, receiving only silence, plaintively asks: Is anybody there? Does anybody care? I think I understand how he felt. I'm into my third year of writing this weekly column and, due entirely to my computer illiteracy, have no idea how many people have read it. I know for sure I have three or four faithful readers. There's Ted, the big noise from Winnetka, where I lived for most of my 36 years writing sports for the Chicago Tribune. Ted's the guy who, whenever I start thinking it may be time to say good night, says "don't do it." There's Charles, my golfing partner, who generally is supportive, always points out my mistakes, and will tell me when he thinks a column sucks. Then there is Paula, my doctor's Girl Friday, who, whenever she sees me, never fails to ask what I'll be writing about next. "Just so you don't write about NASCAR," she says. I try to keep her happy, but this week I'm going to have to at least mention auto racing. Because NASCAR is responsible for adding another reader to my list. That makes four and I know there is a blogger in Chicago who reads me, because he's written a few times to comment and I'd like to write him back but don't have the slightest idea how to do so. See what I mean about computer illiteracy?

The reason I have to mention auto racing this week is that a few days ago I got a phone call out of the blue from Lancaster, Pa. Neither my wife nor I could think of anyone we knew who would be calling us from Pennsylvania Dutch country so we let the call go to voice mail. A little while later my wife listened to our messages and found one from an old friend we hadn't spoken to for years. Back in the early '90s, when I was covering a lot of auto racing for The Tribune, one of the races I usually covered was the Winston Cup (as it was known by then) June race in Michigan. The track is situated in the middle of nowhere. It's official postal designation is Brooklyn, Mich., but the nearest city you've probably heard of is Jackson. There were no really convenient places to stay and we had tried several places when somebody suggested a bed and breakfast right there in Brooklyn. When I called to try to make a reservation for race week-end I was told they were filled up. But they did give me the phone number of a B & B in Homer, some 25-30 miles west of the track. I was able to get a room there and, location aside, it was all you could ask for. The proprietor, Judy, was on the faculty at Michigan State. She couldn't have been nicer. She loaned my wife her car to go antique shopping in nearby Allen while I was at the track. She served terrific breakfasts and when I told her we couldn't have breakfast on Sunday morning because we had to leave early for the track, she got up early to send us off with full stomachs. It was only later that she told us she had hesitated to rent to us because, "I've had trouble with race fans. But I thought I'd try it and see." Evidently we passed the test because the next year Jeff and Wanda Wiker joined us at the breakfast table. They were diehard stock car racing fans from Lancaster, Pa., and we hit it off immediately. In addition to meeting annually in Michigan, I was able to help them get tickets to the brickyard 400 in Indianapolis. But the last time we went to the Michigan race we discovered, to our dismay, that Judy had sold her B & B and moved to Texas.

For awhile we exchanged Christmas cards with the Wikers but, as happens all too often, we somehow stopped communicating and it had probably been 10 years since we had last heard from them. Jeff's message said they were going to go to the Indy 500 for the first time and my immediate thought was they needed help with tickets. Then I remembered that, thanks to Tony George's heavy-handed operation of the world's most famous race, the golden goose had been cooked and tickets were no longer that hard to come by. In fact, Jeff explained, what he wanted was the name of the restaurant the four of us had dined at before the Brickyard 400. He left a number and when I called to tell him he must be thinking of St. Elmo's, he told me that Wanda had discovered My Life in Sports while browsing on her computer and that's how they were able to get in touch. No, he didn't need tickets; a friend had given them his own seats in the grandstand and was going to show them around on race week-end. I hope he'll let me know how they enjoyed their first Indy 500 and that this time we'll stay connected. Under the circumstances I'd hate to lose a single reader.

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Now, as long as we've broached the dreaded NASCAR topic, Paula, I'd like to make a few simple predictions. First, Dale Earnhardt Jr. will win a race this year. He's been in the ballpark a few times and, with his Rick Hendricks backing, he's going to hit one out of the ball park eventually. Second, I think this may be Jeff Gordon's year to win that fifth championship. He hasn't won a race yet but he's finishing pretty consistently in the top five and stands fourth in the standings. He should easily finish in the top 12 and qualify for the Chase. But nothing is ever for certain. Just look at Tiger Woods. How certain are you now that Tiger will catch and pass Jack Nicklaus' record 18 major championships? And have you thought about the similarity in the lives and careers of the two athletes? Both became super stars at an early age. There was a time when it appeared just as certain that Gordon would catch Richard Petty and Dale Earnhardt, who each won seven series championships, as that Woods would supplant Nicklaus as the alltime majors winner. Both married beauty queens and both marriages failed. I had lunch once with Gordon and his first wife. She was a beautiful girl and seemed nice. But their divorce was a particularly bitter one. Now, Woods appears headed for the same fate. Gordon is remarried and appears happy. Perhaps Tiger, too, will get a second chance. If I were to guess right now, which of these two would have the happiest ending, I'd pick Gordon.