In the localized, modernized, downsized version of the old game involving that rascal Waldo:

Where's Mario?

(Play along at home, where you're bound to lose 10, 11, 12 times in a row.)

Oh, he is in this game somewhere. In the owner's box, the locker room, the office. The practices, the morning skates, the exercise bikes. Even outside Mellon Arena, on road trips.

It's just that the general public cannot find him.

The gathering notepads, microphones and news cameras cannot get him to find the motivation to address the general public, either.

Make no mistake, he needs to apologize for nothing; this ignominy isn't his fault. The murmuring masses, seemingly dwindling with each double-digit consecutive loss, merely want to hear something, anything, from Mario Lemieux hisself. And, ya know, it would be kind of nice if the face of the organ-EYE-zation would face his constituents.

Even though he has been asked and advised to speak openly, the owner-player prefers to remain behind a curtain of quiet. All we have heard from him over the past 100-plus days came in a news release less than a week before the Jan. 11 arthroscopic surgery on his left hip:

"It's disappointing that I won't have a chance to return to the ice this season, but I look forward to returning next season."

Since then, silence.

Questions remain, just the same. Lemieux could provide answers. Whether his replies were stock, repetitive or even evasive, they would be soothing answers nonetheless. Because they came from the face of the Penguins, from the voice of the Man Who Twice Saved the Franchise.

You cannot have good public relations without relating to the public, and this club's chief asset could give it a little PR boost from the current morass.

All it takes is one little news briefing. . . .

The hip?

Two surgically repaired hips, and I'm only 38. But I creak like 66. (Smile. Pause for laughter.) Seriously, ...it feels much better. All I can do in the meantime is the stationary bike and some rehab exercises. It should be fine by next season -- whenever that is. (Smile.)

The insurance money?

Glad you asked that, Oliver Stone. Just because I had hip surgeries two of the past three seasons means neither that my body's deteriorating (smile) nor that my team desperately needs the insurance money. And for any remaining conspiracy theorists, Toronto's Alexander Mogilny had surgery on the same hip, by the same doctor, in this same town, and it's taking him three months to get back on the ice. January to February, February to March, March to April ... yeah, that's a season-ending surgery.

The World Cup of Hockey?

Yes, I intend to play, if healthy. Two years ago, the Olympics changed nothing; I still had a bad hip. People in Pittsburgh would be all for this kind of thing if I were going to represent the USA.

The frustration? The rebuilding?

I'm so upset, I go home and throw Austin's sticks. Believe me, I'm just as frustrated as Eddie Olczyk and the guys and the fans. Maybe more. It was rough playing on those Penguins teams in the mid- to late 1980s when rebuilding was a very slow process. Even if many of the older guys aren't playing as well as we hoped, I like what I see from the young guys, their hustle -- even when they keep losing. I've been here when we turned it around before, right?

The attendance?

Look at it this way: We're almost double the average of the 1983-84 season that brought me here. And my first year? We averaged about 2,000 fans fewer per game, 10,000-and-change, than now. Pittsburgh wants a winner and deserves a winner. I want to give it one again.

The franchise goalie?

After what happened to Marc-Andre Fleury in the World Junior Championships, Craig Patrick and Edzo thought he needed to have his confidence restored, play a couple of good games and then return to juniors. It was a hockey decision. Should we have kept him around at least another few weeks, another few games, especially given Sebastien Caron and our goaltending troubles? Again, they decided it was time, and we lost a bunch of games with him and without him. Fleury is 19; he'll be back. And notice how we just called up a 20-year-old goalie, Andy Chiodo, and have another 20-year-old, Bobby Goepfert, playing lights out at Providence College.

The future?

We have to wait awhile to see the new labor agreement and the economic outlook. Once that's settled, our building should fall into place -- and Pittsburgh does need a new arena. With Ryan Malone, Brooks Orpik, Konstantin Koltsov, the goaltenders, Ryan Whitney and Noah Welch and Ben Eaves still in college, you put that together with an equitable financial system and a new building, and our future looks bright. I'm looking forward to next year ...(smile) ... as long as my old body doesn't fall apart first.

Now is that so hard?

First Published: February 22, 2004, 5:00 a.m.