Altoona Mirror, December 11, 2016

We love reunions and the chance they offer to catch up.
We get to see who's done well over the years and who hasn't. What does the homecoming queen look like as a grandmother?
Attendees touch base with the past, and try to condense the time that has passed.
The Penguins recently reunited their 1991 and '92 championship teams. The burly guy with the big smile was Kevin Stevens, who was the prototype power forward in that era.
An all-star on the ice, he was also a formidable locker room presence. Teammates knew Stevens as "Artie," Boston loud, rowdy and funny.
Once Mario Lemieux was doing a routine postgame interview when Stevens' booming voice bounced off the walls of the Civic Arena shower room.
"Hey we're out of (expletive) hot water again! If they don't get this (expletive) place fixed, we're all going to get (expletive) pneumonia and die!"
Lemieux cracked up at the high-volume interruption. He usually did. If Lemieux was king, Stevens was his court jester.
Stevens' life changed forever during the 1993 playoffs when he was knocked unconscious in a collision, crashing face-first into the ice. While the Penguins were inexplicably losing to the New York Islanders, doctors were reconstructing Stevens' face in the operating room.
He was never the same player. He bounced around, playing for four teams in five years. The Penguins took him back. He wandered away on a road trip and never played again.
Drug issues would end his marriage and cause estrangement from other family members. In 2000, he was arrested while sharing a crack pipe with a hooker in a cheap motel. The Penguins gave him yet another chance, hiring him as a scout. He walked away from that job, saying he was going to coach youth hockey.
Last week, Stevens entered a guilty plea in a Massachusetts court on charges he conspired to sell oxycodone. He could face prison time.
Whenever Penguins of that era gather, they invariably ask, "How's Artie?"
Sadly, the answer isn't very good these days.
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--WRONG KIND OF FAME
The Baseball Hall of Fame will induct former commissioner Bud Selig next summer.
Let's hope his Hall of Fame plaque notes his many accomplishments. He took over on an interim basis in 1992, and maintained he didn't want the job.
In 1998, he was officially named commissioner and remained until 2015.
--As an owner, he was part of a collusion scheme designed to depress the free agent market. The owners were found guilty and paid heavy penalties to the Players Association.
--He helped orchestrate the 1994 players' strike, which canceled the World Series for the first time. The second part of that plan called for the hiring of replacement players. Only a court order prevented that travesty from playing out.
--He turned a blind eye to rampant steroid use, instead profiting from an artificial home run race that helped rebuild fan interest after the ill-conceived 1994 attempt at union busting.
--He perfected a shakedown campaign that caused cash-strapped local governments to spend money to build new ballparks in no fewer than 18 cities, including his native Milwaukee.
--He maintained that baseball was still affordable entertainment even as prices for prime tickets in some parks routinely topped three figures.
--He partnered with broadcast outlets who were given the right to shift family-friendly Sunday afternoon games to 8 p.m. starts.
--He caved into pressure from TV and devised an illogical plan where the All-Star game outcome determined home field advantage for the World Series.
--He agreed to move some postseason games off over-the-air television and put them on channels that couldn't be received without a cable or satellite subscription.
Yes, it was quite a career.