Jose Canseco has always and will always be one of my least favorite athletes in the history of any sport. A friend of mine, Steve , recently asked me to name my least favorite athlete from each sport via the 1313 Sports facebook page. This wasn’t an all-time list by any means. This was more of the active players list. My responses to the query were as follows. Joakim Noah (although I would love to have him on my team), AROD (Im a Red Sox fan, enough said), LaDainian Tomlinson (too much crying) and I grouped the Sedin twins into one person. The other day at the gym, Steve’s question popped into my head again. Only this time I wondered to myself what my answers would be if the parameters were not set to active players. What if it were all-time. I started with Ulf Samuellson, quickly moved to Bill Laimbeer and never made it to a football player because as my angst grew I couldn’t get Canseco’s melon out of my head. There are just certain people that you look at and don’t like and when their actions over many years of watching sports justify your thoughts you prey on them. This is how I feel about the idiot that formed the Bash Brothers when Oakland constantly beat the daylights out of the Red Sox in the late 80s and early 90s. The tabloid, steroid co-dependent, bankrupt buffoon that gives homer runs a boost with his noggin. Making matters worse is the fact that he is a rat and nobody likes a rat. The guy just won’t go away. Isn’t there an independent league in Siberia or something? Now I must digress for a bit to explain why I think he should be a nickname before getting back to the man-child himself.
Having grown up in Boston and still having daily contact with friends and family that reside in the Bay State, I am constantly surrounded by quick witted, cynical, sarcastic people. One-liners and nicknames are just a way of life as it is with most people born and raised in the cities on the East Coast. So first here is a quick list of nicknames you don’t want to be called with brief descriptions to be used as a point of reference:
Chief- Yes Chief is a Celtics legend but being called chief has nothing at all to do with Robert Parish and should always be taken as an insult. Any person who has somewhat of a bossy attitude while simultaneously not knowing what the hell they are talking about is a Chief. Captain or Cap is also an acceptable alternative for this type of person.
Chachi or Chach- If you haven’t had the pleasure of watching Happy Days reruns or live. Chachi is a character portrayed by a real life Chach, Scott Baio. Cheesy pick-up lines with a boys face yet tries to dress like a biker type guy. Basically your typical momma’s boy that is trying their best to impress every lady is a Chach. Any cheese ball you know.
Guy - this is a name I’ve only heard in Maine and it aggravates the crap out of me. I know I am a guy, you know I am a guy.. why the hell are you referring to be as guy guy? How ya doin guy? What is that. My name isn’t guy. Guy was a player for the Montreal Canadiens and no respected Bruins fan wants to be called that. A close friend of mine Fooch almost pulled a customer service rep out of a drive thru window while we were getting food recently for being called guy. I had to explain to him that it was meant as a compliment even though I don’t understand why. So don’t call me guy and definitely don’t call my friends guy when they are visiting Maine from Boston. I don’t have time to pick up the pieces later.
Rocky or Rambo- Your basic over aggressive tough guy attitude. The new guy in the conversation that always interrupts. The one-upper for every story. The guy that has been at the bar next to you for 10 minutes and has already ripped through 6 shots of whiskey despite having graduated from college a decade ago. Yeah him. He is also the type of person that draw offensive fouls during a pick-up basketball game.This idiot needs to settle the frig down or wants to arm wrestle after he has a few beers.
Button- I like this one a lot. My cousin Chris actually called me this name and I literally turned snow yellow from laughing. If you are past 30 and can still play sports like you are 18, don’t brag about it around people who can’t. Nobody cares. You are not cheating age and will be referred to as Button, short for Sir Benjamin of Brad Pitt acclaim.
The list can keep going but you get the gist of the idea. So now on to Canseco. Recently I was at the gym exercising and trying to get a view of the mirror to make sure I was even on an exercise ball while doing butteflies, yet I couldn’t see the damn mirror because these two banana heads were taking turns having a flexing competition of sorts between the two of them. Never mind the fact that I’m only about 6 feet away from the mirror, clearing using it and these jerks who need to let the air out of their bodies are in between me so I am staring at sweaty man ass in tight Zumba’s.
These men were in their mid to late 40s with a fresh layer of Just For Men in their hair. A Smedium Ginny Tee (wife beater, tank top) whatever you want to call it. Oompa Loompa spray on tans, pants tighter than David Bowie in Labrynth and of course the typical fanny packs most likely stuffed with a tape measure for those all important body fat composites, panama jack tanning lotion and a 1/2 gallon of Dolce & Gabbana to rid themselves of the funyun pits they’ve developed in the 6.5 hours they’ve been there.
We’re talking brutal stuff here. These two nut huggers looked like the offspring of a Hulk Hogan, Crockett & Tubbs menage, who then spawned a child with Snooki. and I’m getting furious just by the site of them. Now I am only 5-9, 170 lbs and these guys are pretty big so an obvious nickname wouldn’t work when I asked them if they could please spare a few minutes from the mirror so I could see what I was doing. Tommy Triceps and Barry Biceps would have fit perfectly, but way too obvious and I certainly didn’t want to have the freckles squeezed out of my head. I couldn’t hold back anymore and finally yelled a few feet in front of me. Hey Canseco, you mind if I use the mirror while I finish my set? Naturally the response was “What did you call me?” Me: I called you Canseco because you remind me of Canseco. I’m gripping a 25 LB dumbell at the time in case of a bull-rush and his over-sized cranium was the target. Much to my surprise the idiot thanks me for the compliment and moves. Are you ******** me? This is how vain this pinata is that he thinks I’m complementing him. I was actually so mad that he didn’t get take his new moniker with offense that I had to leave. The gentlemen next to me however, got the joke and were holding in a look only a conspirator could love. Good!!! It worked but it needs rules.
1) A Canseco will always have to be a muscle bound Cro-Magnon type man with all of the Canseco attributes. Fake tan, wanna be alpha male, spends too much time on his looks. Tucks his tshirt or tank-top into his Guess Jeans type.
2) A friend or weapon should always be nearby in case said Canseco gets the joke, which he most likely won’t because he’s a Canseco, the Chief of Staff at Dr D Bagel’s office.
I say lets get this done. Give it try and if you do I wanna hear about it in the comments section. Better yet, email me the story and if it spreads I will mention on here once a month or more. If you get a photo even better. Now please if you like the nickname don’t overuse it. We need to save some of that milk for only the true Canseco’s out there.