No way Jose!

RT and me spent the entire day yesterday exchanging messages about random happenings in sports. The following column is the result. Enjoy.

For those of you who didn't know, or just chose to not know, Jose Canseco pitched in the Golden Baseball League All-Star Game representing the Long Beach Armada. You can read about it here. He was featuring his brand new knuckleball, but was only able to retire one batter before giving up four runs. I'm still not sure how a player makes it to an all-star game as position player, but then is allowed to pitch in front of far more deserving players because of his name. Wouldn't that kinda be like if you and your girlfriend were at a bar and suddenly she left with an ex-boyfriend from high school; her only justification being that they had so much history together? There you are hung out to dry after all your good efforts, while he's taking her home solely based on the fact that they dated five years ago. If I were a pitcher that got snubbed in this game I would have slung more shit in the clubhouse than a monkey at the zoo. If there is a time to be selfish its when your budding career gets derailed by Jose Canseco wanting to pitch. Inexcusable.

(Sidenote: I guess this ends my dream of becoming a major league ball player. I had speculated that if I had devoted a year of my life perfecting the knuckleball I would most certainly be able to forge a career as a major league pitcher that could easily last 20 years and bring no less than three Cy Young awards to my cozy mantle. There goes that dream along with being able to be the only major league pitcher to throw a heater that clocks in at 69 mph. Also, my change-up would have been ungodly.)

Despite his lack of success Canseco won the HR derby and was quoted with this little gem referring to his teammates:

"I'm going to take these guys out and get them drunk. I'm going to buy about 400 gallons of beer."

I'm sure Jose then groped the nearest reporter before going berserk and beating her senseless. Train wreck, that man.

While sending endless texts back and forth to RT over this subject matter, Ryan asked, "Can I get the over-under on the Golden Baseball League's lifespan?" Honestly, when your poster boy is Jose, I can't say they'll last much past the second season. In fact, I would go so far as to say not a single day over 2 and a half seasons. Not one single day. Trust me on this one. I mean, does the league know that it has a little less than zero percent chance of making it? Without the help of Canseco and other circus acts, we would have never heard of the GBL. I have a better idea. The league should just sell itself on the purpose of having washed up former all-stars just going at it like its 1993. Wouldn't this make for great television? Who wouldn't want to see a team with a reunited Canseco and Ricky Henderson? Imagine them playing against a team led by Julio Franco and Rookie of the Year Rafael Palmeiro. I'm getting giddy just thinking of the possibilities. We need to make this happen. It would be the best show on television. Somebody get Randy Johnson on the phone, I think we have our new, "young" star.

As me and Ryan laughed about all of this and pondered the longevity of the GBL, we decided that undoubtedly the greatest league flameout of all time had to be the XFL. I don't care who you are, If you were a football and/or a wrestling fan around the year 2000, you watched at least one XFL game. Don't be embarrassed, we all did it. Much like running away from home, or letting your older sister paint your toenails when you were five, we all made mistakes when we were young. All is forgiven. I hope I'm not alone on this one. Regardless, think about this league. Despite their obvious lack of talent, they had marketing everywhere to make up for it. People were going to watch. All they simply had to do was play a descent game of football, but that proved to be too much. I guess the whole ordeal proved that a league with such mediocre stars as Tommy Maddox and a guy simply called "He Hate Me" can't carry itself against the NFL? Go figure.

(Speaking of He Hate Me, did you ever see the "He Hate Me Thanksgiving Special" on ESPN a few years back? I did not, but Ryan told me about it. Apparently, it involved a frozen turkey, bowling, and some ghetto grocery store. I think I would have sold the naming rights of my first born child to have Tivo'd this).

Drew vs. ESPN: Yeah, he's back with another story. I'm starting to think he just makes stuff up and sends it to me to continue feeding his very low-level celebrity status that he acquired through this site. Don't be delusional Drew, I gave you life and I can take it away. Regardless, many of you may remember Drew meeting ESPN's Trey Wingo at the pool where he works as a lifeguard. Well he sent me a message yesterday with the following text:

"Guess who just walked into my pool? Not Trey Wingo but Kenny Mayne! I didn't bring the football that Trey signed. Damn."

Eight minutes later I get this:

"I would talk to him but he doesn't seem as friendly as Trey was."

Am I crazy to think that Drew gets a bit overly excitable about B and C listers from ESPN, like Mayne and Wingo? Does anyone else envision little Drew standing around a corner from Mayne looking really anxious and nervous as if he were about to ask out the girl of his dreams, knowing he has no chance. Am I the only who sees this? Just toss one back and say something to him, Drew. On second thought, everytime Drew is drunk, he calls me, Beau, and Casey to say he "loves us and misses us so much." And somehow I don't see this one being any different. I can imagine Kenny's defeated-looking face as Drew walks up and drop the obligiotry, "Umm, so can we be friends?"