Remembering Steve Howe

The story I often tell about Steve Howe is the time he threw a baseball at my head. But more on that later.

There's a lot of stories about Howe, the talented but troubled pitcher who bounced in and out of the major leagues and cocaine and alcohol abuse for 17 years.

The latest story is the saddest: Howe was killed early Friday when he rolled his pickup in southern California and was thrown from the vehicle. He wasn't wearing a seat belt and his truck was going about 70 mph when it spun out of control.

Howe died like he lived much of his life — fast and recklessly. There's no word yet if drugs or alcohol were a factor in his death. For his sake and his family's, I hope not.

Howe was the National League rookie of the year as a Los Angeles Dodger in 1980 and pitched in the 1981 World Series. But his battles with booze and coke kept him from being as a great as he may have been.

Howe was suspended seven times and received several "lifetime" bans that were always overturned. He was a running joke on national TV shows.

But Howe could throw hard, and he was so good that he hung around until 1996, when the Yankees released him. I met him two years later when I was the editor of the Whitefish Pilot. I played softball in the same league as Howe and once hit a ball over his head while he was in right field. He later did the same to me.

Howe said he just had to burn me since I had done so to him. Cocky. Funny. And so competitive. It was a local softball league, but to Howe, it was serious business.

I once saw Howe spend 20 minutes with his team in the dugout after a loss. It was a wet, cold night, but Howe went over the game with his squad and urged them to do better. Most of us went to a nearby bar for a beer and a burger, but Howe didn't. I never saw him touch a beer in the five years I knew him, and that was saying something: Whitefish was, and is, a hard-drinking town.

Howe had gotten into trouble there before, getting busted for coke in Kalispell during one off season and smashing up a motorcycle after he had been drinking in August 1997. In his autobiography — the Whitefish Public Library has a copy — Howe wrote of his battle to get and stay sober. It was a constant fight.

By the time I met him, he was holding church gatherings in his home, helping to coach the high school softball team (his daughter was a star player) and trying to stay out of trouble.

Once a man with the same name got arrested for drunkenly trying to enter a house in Columbia Falls. Howe urged all media to note that it wasn't him this time. And we did.

Another time he contacted the Pilot to announce he might run for mayor. Howe was upset because the school board banned him from actively coaching the girls softball team, saying his national reputation for booze and drugs was a poor example for the girls to be around.

He still went to the games and offered tips. Howe just couldn't do it wearing a uniform and being on the field. I'm still not sure what being elected mayor would have done for his ability to coach softball, but it was a good story at the time.

We did several stories on him, including a lengthy profile in 1998 when he said he could still pitch in the big leagues and had teams offering him a job.

Howe also bragged of his domination of Mark McGwire, who was in the news that summer as he smashed 70 homers. I looked it up, and Howe was right. He had handcuffed McGwire. Howe gripped a baseball when he told me he threw too hard for Big Mac.

He threw too hard for me — that was for sure. One summer, a friend bought me five swings against Howe, who was pitching to all comers as a fund-raiser for the local American Legion team. I missed the first, chopped a pair of balls weakly to third and then hit a fairly solid liner into left field.

On the next pitch, Howe threw at my head. And smiled. A wide smile. The pitch wasn't very fast, but it got my attention. On the next pitch, Howe threw a slow curve that I flailed at and missed.

He was competitive as hell. His dad raised him that way, and he was pumped pitching against Reggie Jackson in the World Series or against a chubby editor on a high school field.

I am sorry for Howe's family and friends. He led a fascinating life, filled with ups and downs, highs and lows. His life is like his career — it ended far too soon.

Tom Lawrence is the editor of The Rapid City Weekly News. He was editor of the Whitefish Pilot and other Flathead Valley weekly newspapers from 1997-2003. He can be reached at tom@rcweeklynews.com.