an entertaining post i read over at 2+2...
http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/29/news-views-gossip/jose-cansecos-narrow-wsop-escape-506447/
Jose Canseco is an extremely impressively sized man in person, he?s listed at six foot four and two hundred and forty pounds, but I swear he seemed a few inches taller, and everything about him is huge, from his shoulders to the length of his arms. While barely leaning forward from the three seat, screaming at the seven seat, I swear his pointing finger seems to end half way across the table, even past the flop. As I?m standing right behind the 7 seat, it?s a frightening sight, especially given how the visage of his melon sized melon is twisted with rage.
?I?m gonna kick your ass!?, he yells to the seven. Then as the Rio?s highly trained security guards and social security recipients try to pull him back, the finger lifts slightly until I feel it center on my forehead as he roars. ?And I?m gonna kick your ass too!?
Me? What did I do?
The story starts as I was playing 20-40 at the Rio last Wednesday morning around 6 am when my table-mate said, hey look, it's Jose Canseco. Sure enough Jose was cashing out a couple of racks of chips. When I saw him, besides awe at his impressive size, the first thing that came to mind is how did Jose Canseco afford to buy enough chips to still have two racks left?
I didn't think much more of him as I returned to my main task that day, giving away chips to anyone who wanted to play a pot with me in the 20. But seconds later someone shouted "fight! fight!". The room was pretty empty this early in the morning, maybe ten to fifteen tables, and I saw Jose over in the NL section, yelling. He looked to be at the table next to my buddy Todd's, and I immediately prayed Todd wasn't in the bathroom, I knew he'd love this.
The poor shmuck he was yelling at was a younger guy like Todd, and in fact wore a hat similar to Todd's, and was about Todd's height, Five foot Eleven and build, maybe 160 pounds. I was thinking his sweatshirt looked a lot like Todd's as well when the grogginess of a 16 hour session suddenly cleared for me. A story about Todd's childhood he had told me a few months ago flashed into mind, and I said to myself as I ran over to serve as his dutiful wingman, why couldn't it be Mark McGwire?
It all started, as Todd tells me later, while he was playing 2-5NL. A cute (Todd says hot, but maybe I' m jaded from a week in Vegas) blonde sat at his table. Someone mentions that Jose Canseco is playing 5-10NL a couple tables over and Todd replies, who cares, Canseco's a prick.
The little blonde snaps her tiny head to look at Todd. What did you say? She asks. Todd repeats himself, and to explain, tells her the same story he had bored me with oh those months ago.
When Todd was a boy he was a huge baseball fan. When he was 12 years old his best friends mom took them to the Scottsdale Doubletree Inn, where the Oakland A's were staying for spring training. Todd and his buddy had a dream day, swimming with and getting autographs from guys like Mark McGwire, Tony LaRussa, Dennis Eckersley, Carney Lansford and more. But Todd's biggest hero was Jose Canseco, and when Jose finally arrived, it seemed to be the crowning moment of his greatest day ever.
Todd excitedly ran over with his baseball. "Mr. Canseco, would you please sign my ball?" Little Todd asks.
"Beat it kid" Jose blows by him.
"But Mr. Canseco".
"Leave me alone!" Jose barks at him.
Todd was crushed, and later he would vow that if he was ever rich, or famous, that he'd never treat anyone the way Jose had treated him.
The little blonde is not impressed by the story. "I am Jose Canseco's girlfriend", she announces as if she's actually proud of it. "And I can tell you for a fact that Jose never refuses an autograph. He loves his fans."
Todd nodds his head, "I'm sure he does, now that he's a washed up loser who is broke and desperate for attention.".
The blonde gasps. "How would you like to say that to his face!".
"I would love to." Todd smiles.
Aside: One of the things I love about this girl is that her simpleminded and tenous grasp of reality meshes so perfectly with Jose's. One of my favorite sports quotes came from Pat Jordan's interview with Jose.
http://deadspin.com/372409/chasing-jose-by-pat-jordan
Quote:
<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=7 width="100%" border=0><TBODY><TR><TD class=alt2 style="BORDER-RIGHT: 1px inset; BORDER-TOP: 1px inset; BORDER-LEFT: 1px inset; BORDER-BOTTOM: 1px inset">His girlfriend, Heidi, answered the phone. I told her that I was writing a magazine story about Jose writing a book. "And a movie," she said. "Jose is writing a book and a movie about himself." I said, "You mean a screenplay?" She paused a beat, then said, "No, a movie." I said, "Of course." </TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
So immediately Ms. Sh*t Stirrer goes off to get her man into trouble.
I like Todd, and some of the things I like about him most are his sense of honor, his honesty and his ethics. I think his only flaws, the only three things that get him in trouble, are his sense of honor, his honesty, and his ethics.
When Jose approaches the table he says "Who's been telling lies about me".
"It wasn't a lie, Mr. Canseco". And Todd proceeds to recount to Mr. Canseco their last meeting.
"That's a ****ing lie!" The enormously muscled man-baby screams, "That never happened!".
"Oh it did happen, and don't call me a liar, you freakin Roid Monkey."
Jose apparently doesn't like people referring to him as "a loser", "a roided up freak", "pathetic", or the many similar phrases that Todd tossed his way. And Todd said them all with a smile, without getting up from his seat, and barely raising his voice. Jose on the other hand, was twitching like a coked up roid monkey, and his eyes blinked maniacally, as if his head had been conked by a fly ball and scrambled his vision.
"You're lucky there are laws protecting scumbags like you or I'd take you and yor friend into a dark alley and beat the crap out of you!!" Jose yells as the 80 year old security guards try to hold Jose and their walkers at the same time.
"You don't need an alley you big pussy, let's do it right here!" Todd says.
About this time the floor arrives and attempts to eject Todd.
"Hey, I'm in the middle of a hand!" Todd snaps. The whole time, Todd had been playing, and winning a hand of poker. The floor let him finish his hand as Jose screams at him from the exit. The most interesting part for me was the reaction of Todd's table-mates. They hated Todd, and they loved Jose. Be cool Jose! Don't do it! You want to play the main event home boy, don't get kicked out!
We end up getting ejected from the poker room, and almost from the property, but they relented on that when they found out we were guests.
I asked Todd why he kept yanking the Grande Mono's chain, and he said I wanted him to hit me, so I could sue that jerk's ass. I carefully explained to Todd that he doesn't understand the U.S. legal system very well, because it's a well known jurisdictional rule that you cannot file a civil suit until you emerge from your coma.
And next time you are hanging with me, I told him, treat your sense of honor like your ball sack, and don't whip it out in public.
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http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/29/news-views-gossip/jose-cansecos-narrow-wsop-escape-506447/
Jose Canseco is an extremely impressively sized man in person, he?s listed at six foot four and two hundred and forty pounds, but I swear he seemed a few inches taller, and everything about him is huge, from his shoulders to the length of his arms. While barely leaning forward from the three seat, screaming at the seven seat, I swear his pointing finger seems to end half way across the table, even past the flop. As I?m standing right behind the 7 seat, it?s a frightening sight, especially given how the visage of his melon sized melon is twisted with rage.
?I?m gonna kick your ass!?, he yells to the seven. Then as the Rio?s highly trained security guards and social security recipients try to pull him back, the finger lifts slightly until I feel it center on my forehead as he roars. ?And I?m gonna kick your ass too!?
Me? What did I do?
The story starts as I was playing 20-40 at the Rio last Wednesday morning around 6 am when my table-mate said, hey look, it's Jose Canseco. Sure enough Jose was cashing out a couple of racks of chips. When I saw him, besides awe at his impressive size, the first thing that came to mind is how did Jose Canseco afford to buy enough chips to still have two racks left?
I didn't think much more of him as I returned to my main task that day, giving away chips to anyone who wanted to play a pot with me in the 20. But seconds later someone shouted "fight! fight!". The room was pretty empty this early in the morning, maybe ten to fifteen tables, and I saw Jose over in the NL section, yelling. He looked to be at the table next to my buddy Todd's, and I immediately prayed Todd wasn't in the bathroom, I knew he'd love this.
The poor shmuck he was yelling at was a younger guy like Todd, and in fact wore a hat similar to Todd's, and was about Todd's height, Five foot Eleven and build, maybe 160 pounds. I was thinking his sweatshirt looked a lot like Todd's as well when the grogginess of a 16 hour session suddenly cleared for me. A story about Todd's childhood he had told me a few months ago flashed into mind, and I said to myself as I ran over to serve as his dutiful wingman, why couldn't it be Mark McGwire?
It all started, as Todd tells me later, while he was playing 2-5NL. A cute (Todd says hot, but maybe I' m jaded from a week in Vegas) blonde sat at his table. Someone mentions that Jose Canseco is playing 5-10NL a couple tables over and Todd replies, who cares, Canseco's a prick.
The little blonde snaps her tiny head to look at Todd. What did you say? She asks. Todd repeats himself, and to explain, tells her the same story he had bored me with oh those months ago.
When Todd was a boy he was a huge baseball fan. When he was 12 years old his best friends mom took them to the Scottsdale Doubletree Inn, where the Oakland A's were staying for spring training. Todd and his buddy had a dream day, swimming with and getting autographs from guys like Mark McGwire, Tony LaRussa, Dennis Eckersley, Carney Lansford and more. But Todd's biggest hero was Jose Canseco, and when Jose finally arrived, it seemed to be the crowning moment of his greatest day ever.
Todd excitedly ran over with his baseball. "Mr. Canseco, would you please sign my ball?" Little Todd asks.
"Beat it kid" Jose blows by him.
"But Mr. Canseco".
"Leave me alone!" Jose barks at him.
Todd was crushed, and later he would vow that if he was ever rich, or famous, that he'd never treat anyone the way Jose had treated him.
The little blonde is not impressed by the story. "I am Jose Canseco's girlfriend", she announces as if she's actually proud of it. "And I can tell you for a fact that Jose never refuses an autograph. He loves his fans."
Todd nodds his head, "I'm sure he does, now that he's a washed up loser who is broke and desperate for attention.".
The blonde gasps. "How would you like to say that to his face!".
"I would love to." Todd smiles.
Aside: One of the things I love about this girl is that her simpleminded and tenous grasp of reality meshes so perfectly with Jose's. One of my favorite sports quotes came from Pat Jordan's interview with Jose.
http://deadspin.com/372409/chasing-jose-by-pat-jordan
Quote:
<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=7 width="100%" border=0><TBODY><TR><TD class=alt2 style="BORDER-RIGHT: 1px inset; BORDER-TOP: 1px inset; BORDER-LEFT: 1px inset; BORDER-BOTTOM: 1px inset">His girlfriend, Heidi, answered the phone. I told her that I was writing a magazine story about Jose writing a book. "And a movie," she said. "Jose is writing a book and a movie about himself." I said, "You mean a screenplay?" She paused a beat, then said, "No, a movie." I said, "Of course." </TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
So immediately Ms. Sh*t Stirrer goes off to get her man into trouble.
I like Todd, and some of the things I like about him most are his sense of honor, his honesty and his ethics. I think his only flaws, the only three things that get him in trouble, are his sense of honor, his honesty, and his ethics.
When Jose approaches the table he says "Who's been telling lies about me".
"It wasn't a lie, Mr. Canseco". And Todd proceeds to recount to Mr. Canseco their last meeting.
"That's a ****ing lie!" The enormously muscled man-baby screams, "That never happened!".
"Oh it did happen, and don't call me a liar, you freakin Roid Monkey."
Jose apparently doesn't like people referring to him as "a loser", "a roided up freak", "pathetic", or the many similar phrases that Todd tossed his way. And Todd said them all with a smile, without getting up from his seat, and barely raising his voice. Jose on the other hand, was twitching like a coked up roid monkey, and his eyes blinked maniacally, as if his head had been conked by a fly ball and scrambled his vision.
"You're lucky there are laws protecting scumbags like you or I'd take you and yor friend into a dark alley and beat the crap out of you!!" Jose yells as the 80 year old security guards try to hold Jose and their walkers at the same time.
"You don't need an alley you big pussy, let's do it right here!" Todd says.
About this time the floor arrives and attempts to eject Todd.
"Hey, I'm in the middle of a hand!" Todd snaps. The whole time, Todd had been playing, and winning a hand of poker. The floor let him finish his hand as Jose screams at him from the exit. The most interesting part for me was the reaction of Todd's table-mates. They hated Todd, and they loved Jose. Be cool Jose! Don't do it! You want to play the main event home boy, don't get kicked out!
We end up getting ejected from the poker room, and almost from the property, but they relented on that when they found out we were guests.
I asked Todd why he kept yanking the Grande Mono's chain, and he said I wanted him to hit me, so I could sue that jerk's ass. I carefully explained to Todd that he doesn't understand the U.S. legal system very well, because it's a well known jurisdictional rule that you cannot file a civil suit until you emerge from your coma.
And next time you are hanging with me, I told him, treat your sense of honor like your ball sack, and don't whip it out in public.
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