By Bob Markus

Lets see if I've got this right. The Big 12 has 10 members. The Big 10 has 12 members. The Pac 10 has 11 members, but appears ready to make Utah the 12th member. Whose on first? I dunno. Third base! Perhaps Abbott and Costello could make some sense out of what's happening in college athletics. I sure can't. I graduated from a Big 12 school--Missouri. Only, then, it was the Big Seven. It wasn't until a half dozen years after I left school that it became the Big Eight, or, as pundits of the time called it, Oklahoma and the Seven Dwarfs.

It was about to be called "history" until Monday, when Texas came riding to the rescue, like the Lone Ranger protecting the Wells Fargo stage coach, and saved the payroll. Texas is one of the new kids on the Big 12 block, having led a mass exodus from the Southwest conference that changed the landscape of college football forever. Three other SWC schools joined Texas in the stampede, merging with the Big Eight to form the Big 12. The tradition rich Southwest conference, which had produced the likes of Sammy Baugh and Bobby Layne, Earl Campbell and Ricky Williams, was gone, vanished. Poof!

The same thing was about to happen to the Big 12. The Pac 10, spooked by rumblings from Big 10 country that the conference, already up to 11 members with the 1993 addition of Penn State, was planning to expand by as many as five schools, planned a massive preemptive strike of its own. The target of both conferences: The Big 12. The Pac 10 struck first, picking up Colorado, which boasts one of the prettiest--and most party prone--campuses in the country, but not much in the way of athletic heritage. The Big 10 then tossed out its bait in the direction of Nebraska and succeeded in reeling in the Cornhuskers, a longtime national force in football.

From a personal standpoint that shocked me. First of all, I had covered most of the Nebraska-Oklahoma shootouts of the early 1970s and regretted the fact I'd likely never see another one. But , more importantly, it left my alma mater in a potentially untenable position. Missouri had been rumored as one of the schools being considered by the Big 10. It definitely would not be one of the schools coveted by the Pac 10. Had Texas decided to put on its walking boots there would have been a domino effect, resulting in the demise of the Big 12 and Missouri would have been one of the schools looking through a window at the candy jar. The Pac 10 was poised to offer membership to four other Big 12 teams, including Oklahoma, and with Nebraska and Texas already gone, it's doubtful any of the four could or would refuse. With only six schools remaining, none of them a longterm football power, there would have been an-every-man-for-himself scramble to find a new home. Given their lack of universal appeal, the stranded six could not even go back to their original designation of The Big Six. Missouri's best option in that scenario would be to pair up with ancient rival Kansas in a package deal with either the Big 10 or Big East.

No matter what else happens I have a suggestion that I hope both conferences consider carefully. Swap names. Let the 10-school Big 12 be known as The Big 10 and the 12-team Big 10 as the Big 12. Seems reasonable to me. And it wouldn't even be breaking new ground. Back in the 1950s and 60s, there was a pair of auto racing brothers, Jim and Dick Rathmann, who enjoyed varying degrees of success. Dick made his mark in NASCAR, although he did run in nine Indianapolis 500s, once starting on the pole. Jim was the winner of the 1960 Indy 500, considered by many the greatest race ever run at the Brickyard, with Jim and Rodger Ward battling nose to tail for most of the 200 laps. One day, at a party in Indianapolis, I got to talking with one of the brothers. I think it was Dick. "You know," he told me, "I'm really Jim Rathmann. And Jim is Dick." It's true. Back at the beginning of their careers, Dick, four years younger than his brother, was too young to enter a race. So he switched names with Jim. It was only meant to be temporary, but somehow they never got around to switching back. So, now, if you talk to one of the Rathmann's you can't be sure just whom you're talking to. Hey, Abbott!

Dick Rathmann, by the way, was No.16 on my list of best drivers who never won the Indy 500. That's the list I was going to give you in the aftermath of this year's race, but didn't get around to it. So this is as good a time as any, and how do you like that segue? The top 10:

10--Alberto Ascari. The great Italian Formula One racer only ran at Indianapolis once and finished only 40 laps. But he is considered one of the all-time greats in motor racing. He was Mario Andretti's boyhood hero and inspiration. Mario virtually glowed while telling me of the time he stood in a roadside crowd and cheered each time Ascari came by.

9--Ralph Hepburn. Started as a motorcycle racing champion. Finished 2d in 1937, just 2.16 seconds behind Wilbur Shaw.

8--Jackie Stewart. Winner of three Formula one titles, he led his first of two Indy 500s with eight laps to go before retiring with a mechanical failure. He was voted Rookie of the Year over Graham Hill, who won the race.

7--Lloyd Ruby. Winner of seven champ car races, he had his best chance in 1969. He was leading the race until, on a pit stop, he pulled away too soon while the fuel hose nozzle was still attached, ripping a hole in his gas tank.

6--Tony Bettenhausen. Father of racers Gary, Merle, and Tony Jr., started 14 races with one second and two fourth place finishes. Was killed testing a car for a friend at Indianapolis in 1961.

5--Dan Gurney. An American road racing icon and car builder, he ran nine times at Indy. In his last three races he finished second, second, and third.

4--Eddie Sachs. Known as "the clown prince of auto racing," he won 8 champ car races and 2 Indy 500 poles. Finished second in 1961 and '62, died in first lap crash in 1964. Crash also took the life of rookie Dave MacDonald. Also involved: a couple of guys named Johnny Rutherford and B obby Unser.

3--Rex Mays. Finished second in 1940, 41', years in which he won the series championship. Has a race named after him at Milwaukee Mile.

2--Ted Horn. National champion in 1946, '47, '48, died in crash at DuQuoin, Il. in October of 1948. Had incredible nine-year string of top 4 finishes at Indianapolis.

1--Michael Andretti. Won 42 Indy Car races and one championship. Holds the record for most laps led without a win at Indy. Dropped out of race while leading on five different occasions.

Things I've let go by me while missing a week of blogging: Armando Galarraga loses perfect game on ump's blown call. In baseball parlance, a perfect game is often referred to as an El Perfecto. In this case, close, but no cigar.

Johnny Wooden dies at 99. I'm one of few writers who ever criticized Wooden, mainly because of his penchant for shielding stars Lew Alcindor and Bill Walton from the press. I felt it would have served both better to learn how to deal with media. I may have been wrong, since both turned out to be articulte and outspoken. I also changed my mind about Wooden after having breakfast with him one morning in the Dallas Cowboys' training camp in Thousand Oaks, Ca. He was delightful company.

Blackhawks win Stanley Cup. The Blackhawks were my final beat at the Chicago Tribune. Jeremy Roenick was the star and my go-to-guy. I wasn't surprised when he shed tears of joy after the clinching game. He always was an emotional guy and his greatest years came with the Hawks.

Some of you may have noticed I did not write a column last week. I'll probably go to an every-other-week schedule from now on. But if something strikes my fancy in the interim I'll probably give it a go. One of the advantages of writing for yourself is that you don't HAVE to publish every week.