The following was taken from Jessica Canseco’s book, “Juicy: Confessions of a former baseball wife.”…we kissed for awhile and I relaxed a little, but then I looked down and saw his weiner. It didn’t look like any weiner I had seen before. It was big and uncircumcised, and I thought it was one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen. But as soon as it got hard all the skin pulled back and it looked pretty magnificent. I don’t remember much about the sex. We made love in the standard position. I’m from a farm in Middle America. We didn’t get a lot of Latinos with uncircumcised wieners there. I also thought about his testicles, but it seems Jose’s were unusually small. (editors note: this is called testicular atrophy and can be linked to steroid use)
God, I love Leila.
Sounds like she is feeding the dogs right now. Jesus, those tits are amazing.
They are talking about ebola on the radio. I’ve been feeling feverish lately. I need to get that checked out. Ebola….that sounds funny.
Leila wanted to go get a”falafel” earlier. I had no idea what she was talking about. “Middle Eastern food,” she says. I wanted a Cuban sandwich.
The dogs are barking. Neighbor is fussing around in her backyard. I wonder if she knows I’m famous?
Puma puntu…or is it Punku? I just know that it fascinates me. Wow. How’d they do that?
“You’re a lot to handle…sometimes I just give up. But I’m all you have. You don’t have anybody else in your life.” Leila told me this earlier. She’s probably right. I need to call my manager about that autograph session later this week.
I do not think Mr 50/50 is born or conceived yet. God, I love Leila….her ass is amazing. Yummy.
I would love to be the hitting coach of the Oakland A’s. I love Oakland; the fans made me feel wanted again at the reunion.
Leila is cooking something. God, I love her. Wow. I made my Major League debut a year before she was born.
I think I need to clean my guns. I was the first man to achieve 40/40…perhaps I can be the first man to clean 4 guns at one time…..
Bill Bathe played catcher in the Major Leagues for 3 years, including time with the Oakland A’s in 1986. I found this story on his website (http://pro-baseball-drills-and-equipment.com/stories/jose-canseco/) and found it to be interesting. He now lives in Tucson, Arizona and is captain of the Tucson Fire Deapartment. Enjoy.
Playing along side Jose Canseco, this is my account of my playing days in the Oakland A’s minor leagues.
I had an opportunity to play in Tacoma and Oakland with Jose along with Mark McGwire.
When Jose was first playing in the minors, he was a young kid. Not weighing very much and skinny in stature. In the low minors he hit few home runs and struck out a lot. He was signed by the A’s after a recommendation by a scout. He was not a high pick.
It was noticed that after his average year in single A, he came to spring training the following year looking like Charles Atlas. Jose Canseco had gone from being skinny to the hulk.
After talking to Jose, I proposed the question to him about what he was doing to increase his size and strength so dramatically. He replied that he was lifting weights 8 hours a day. I balked at this and asked him again how he was doing it and he replied that he was taking steroids.
The next season, Canseco went on a rampage hitting wise. He started tearing up the league in double A and was soon promoted to triple A where he joined me on the Tacoma Tigers. He proceeded to tear up the triple A league also and when we played in Vancouver, an interesting thing happened and was amusing. While playing a game and after the opposing team could not get him out, when he appeared for his next at bat, on the score board appeared, “Now batting, Roy Hobbs”.
So Roy Hobbs was born in the Pacific coast league and he was hispanic with unbelievable bat speed. He remained with us for the short remainder of the season.
When we played at home, we played in Cheney stadium in Tacoma Washington. The center field fence is a long ways away, some 400 and something feet away with a towering green monster that rises at least 50 feet. In my 4 four years at Cheney stadium, I never once saw anybody hit one over that fence. Not only was it a long way away with a towering wall, the temperature was always damp and the ball did not carry very well. When Jose Canseco joined us at Cheney stadium, it was the first time I saw an opposing team stop what they were doing to watch Jose hit. You could have heard a pin drop. Jose was launching balls consistently over the center field wall and also putting them over the light tower in left center field which was also a herculean feat. I had never in my life witnessed such power. It was truly amazing to watch. Senor Roy Hobbs!
I had asked Jose if he thought steroids had helped his performance on the field. His reply was that it had. He felt that steroids allowed him to play at the level he was at. Now the real question is, how is this going to effect him long term.
I was floored last night when a family friend told me that Jason Giambi had signed with the goddamn Cleveland Indians. Just months earlier I had a cheap laugh at his expense when I found out he was trying to manage the Colorado Rockies. Giambi in my eyes was a “party animal,” whose reign started long before he shed his mullet, beard and laid -back attitude for the lilly white sanctity of a Yankees uniform.
Giambi’s three-year tour of NYC’s taverns, according to eyewitnesses, actually began two months before he signed with the Yankees in December 2001, with him table- dancing until 4 a.m. in an Upper West Side bar the night he flew to New York with the A’s up 2-zip in the Division Series. (that series turned out to be the most chair throwing disaster in the history of my fandom thanks to his idiot brother)
Giambi’s excessive partying that night (complete with faux rockstar poser duds) apparently spooked several Yankees players. But maybe word never got up to George Steinbrenner before he signed off on the worst contract in Yankees history.(still laughing about that one) Giambi “lived the life of a rock star,” according to a former member of the Yankees’ traveling party, and several witnesses say he was partying late with Ricky Williams in Miami during the 2003 World Series, right before begging out of Game 5. The same person said Giambi would sneak beer onto the bench and call his in-game shots personal “protein drinks.” He also picked up smoking and could be seen during the 2004 ALCS chewing tobacco while supposedly in sick bay. His production withered to almost nothing as he transitioned from the physique of a He-man to Pee-wee Herman. (not from cutting fat out of his diet, it turns out) The fans started getting on his ass because he couldn’t get the job done without the ‘roids, and was being paid 120 million. A former Yankees official predicted the bad publicity would overwhelm him because he’s a “mental midget.”
I’m certainly not going to judge Mr. Giambi for partying and (alleged) drug use, I’ve done loads of that in my time and still drink or take a toke in a social gathering or if I’m trying to listen to some mellow jams. As any reader of this blog may or may not know, I also didn’t disapprove (then) of steroid use. The game needed a jolt, was at an all-time low in popularity and home runs made the game sexy again for a short time. Sure, I suppose there is a bit of jealousy because I’ll never make the kind of money this guy does; but it’s more than that. (or the Yankee signing) It’s about the privilege these guys feel they have. Giambi can disrespect the game, rape fans for their hard-earned cash, and still expect the game to give him a shot at a distinguished managerial role. I don’t hate the guy, he’s just the physical representation of everything that is wrong with this country; a culture of exposure, where we desire to let it all hang out in an orgy of exhibitionism, self-involvement and confession. An abuse of power and a big “fuck you” to the fans….. as I cry into my 15 dollar beer.