DATE: Sunday, September 7, 1997             TAG: 9709070240

SECTION: SPORTS                  PAGE: C10  EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY BOB ZELLER, STAFF WRITER 

DATELINE: RICHMOND                          LENGTH:   83 lines

HANGING WITH HUT, JUST A REGULAR GUY HUT STRICKLIN DOESN'T FIT THE TYPICAL WINSTON CUP DRIVER MOLD, HE'S FRIENDLY.

I'm hanging with Hut Stricklin.

It's a Thursday night on race weekend at Richmond International Raceway, and Hut and I are keeping the economy stoked at a local establishment known as Maxwell's.

Hut is a regular guy, which is unusual when you're talking about drivers in the NASCAR Winston Cup series.

You don't hang with, say, Jeff Gordon. Five years ago, Gordon showed up by himself at a party I attended at Daytona. I chatted with him for a few moments, but I didn't hang with him. I've never hung out with Dale Earnhardt or Rusty Wallace, either.

But you can hang with Hut.

``Maybe that's one reason fans are booing Gordon,'' said Christine Cramer, publicist for the Circuit City No. 8 Ford Thunderbird, which Hut drives. ``These people can relate to Hut. And he is honestly good to them. He's one of them.''

At Maxwell's, Hut is getting psyched up to hit the karaoke stage. He is drinking water. The disc jockey announces, ``And now, HEEEEERE's Hut Stricklin.

Hut, wearing a white shirt and jeans, jumps on stage, takes the microphone, and begins to belt out ``At This Moment,'' a song by Billy Vera and the Beaters.

Hut has been doing this since 1992, and he's pretty darn good. A few flashbulbs pop as he sings. He gets a rousing ovation as he comes off stage.

``I guess I started when I was about nine or 10,'' he says, as we continue our conversation. ``I've got some old tapes at home. My voice was real high. I could sing the heck out of all the girl songs.''

Stricklin came in town Wednesday for several local interviews. At the end of one of them, the sportscaster asked him to sing. So he ripped off a few bars of ``He Stopped Loving Her Today'' by George Jones. As it turned out, that's all that appeared on the air - Hut singing. The stuff about racing landed on the cutting-room floor.

But that's the way it goes when you're not a superstar.

Hut is telling me how he built a karaoke room in the basement of his old house in Alabama (he now lives in North Carolina) when we are interrupted by a Maxwell's patron, Jeannie Martin of Richmond. ``Is one of you a race car driver?'' she asks.

I look at Hut and he looks at me. He says, ``Does it look like one of us is a race car driver? Which one of us do you think is a race car driver?

``Seriously, which one of you is a race car driver?'' Martin asks.

I finally confess that I am not a race car driver and Hut signs his name for her with big sweeps and loops. His flamboyant style of signing makes it rather obvious who is the race car driver.

``I don't know anything about racing,'' Martin confesses.

This sort of event is common. At Darlington last weekend, a fan came up to Nashville Tennessean sportswriter Larry Woody, who doesn't look a wit like Hut, and asked, ``Are you Hut Stricklin? Can I have your autograph?''

When Hut hangs with Cramer and Circuit City sports marketing director Frank Burchfield, fans will ignore Stricklin and ask Burchfield for HIS autograph. So Burchfield will sign ``Frank Burchfield'' and the fan will go, ``What the

Hut is the kind of guy who looks like somebody but you can't put your finger on it. To me, he's sort of a kindly Elvis, given his thick, black, wavy hair.

``Doesn't he look like one of the Monkees or something?'' asked Denise Wood, a public relations representative.

``I'm on TV some, but not enough to be a familiar guy,'' said Stricklin. ``I'm on TV enough for them to recognize my name, but they might not recognize my face. And some of them know me when they see me, but they don't know my name.''

``Me and a crew member were sittin' there eatin' one day. And this crew guy doesn't look like me at all. He's just tall. So this fan walks up to the crew guy and says, ``Hey, Hut, I need you to sign this thing. So he signs it, `Hut Strickland.''

``And another guy is sitting over at the fan's table and I hear him say, `That's Michael Andretti.' And he's talking about me. So this fan looks at the crew guy and says, `Get back, Hut. You ain't nothin. If it wasn't for this guy's daddy here, there wouldn't be no such thing as racing.' And he asked me for MY autograph.''

``So I went to sign `Andretti,' and I went A...N...D...R...E...T... I couldn't remember how it was after the `T', so I signed a straight line. So this fan says, `Can you put your car number, please?'

``I don't ever watch any Indy car racing enough to know any car numbers. So I put number one. I figured you could never go wrong with number one.''

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