BEING HIMSELF
Former A’s Bash Brother makes a go of a TV commentary gig from his Las Vegas home as he finds ways back into the sport that he loves
“I’ve always said this, that I would probably be abducted by aliens before I get to manage in the major leagues, which I believe is true. But hey, I’m still holding onto that dream.” — Former Oakland A’s slugger Jose Canseco
LAS VEGAS» Lounging in the pop-up television studio in his Las Vegas home, clad in his work clothes — a tank top and backward hat — Jose Canseco wants you to know how far he can still crush a baseball, how many games of bowling, golf and softball he packs into his afternoons and how fit he is compared to many of his former colleagues.
He also wants you to know he’ll do just about anything to get back into baseball.
His quest to be accepted by the sport that shunned him has been an endless journey marked by participation in home run derbies against players some 30 years younger, midseason appearances on unaffiliated minor league teams and shuttling himself from function to function where he’s paid to sign memorabilia.
It has often mirrored the character of Mickey Rourke in the critically acclaimed movie “The Wrestler,” a tale of an aging athlete clinging to the fame of yesteryear.
“I’ve always said this: that I would probably be abducted by aliens before I get to manage in the major leagues, which I believe is true,” said Canseco, 53. “But hey, I’m still holding onto that dream. I don’t care if I’m 60, 70 years old. Maybe with these doors opening right now, maybe it could happen.”
The first door opened this season. Canseco served as an analyst on 25 A’s telecasts, as close to the majors as he has been since his career came to an abrupt end in 2001, 38
home runs shy of 500. “It’s an opportunity for him, maybe even a little bit of a second chance, to be at a different point of his life and his career and kind of come back home in some ways and have some of the same success from early in his career, but on a different platform with media and TV,” A’s president Dave Kaval said early this season.
From his home in Vegas, which is wired for remote broadcasting, Canseco is as unfiltered and unapologetic as ever. The A’s and broadcast partner NBC Sports California never attempted to mold him into the polished ideal of a former player turned analyst, in contrast to the approach that has made another controversial steroids figure, Alex Rodriguez, a star for Fox Sports.
Instead, they told Canseco to be himself, and the two parties got exactly what they asked for.
As an athlete, Canseco believed he had to do more than hit some of the longest home runs in MLB history. He was an entertainer. His job was to put on a show.
“Forget about how I played on any given night; I knew my role was to give the media and the fans what they really wanted — which was to be colorful and larger than life,” Canseco wrote in “Juiced,” the 2005 tell-all that exposed baseball’s steroid culture and turned the game against him.
As an analyst, trading in suits for tank tops and backward hats, Canseco offers the full version of himself in front of a bookcase lined with figurines of his heyday at-bats, an A’s road jersey, baseballs, bats and other memorabilia. His 17 years of major league experience and unabashed bluntness leave viewers on the edge of their seats wondering what he’s going to say next.
“I just tell the truth, how I see it,” Canseco said. “Maybe I need a filter? I have no idea. I tell you exactly how it is. I think that’s why they like it.”
On broadcasts, and subsequently afterward on his Twitter account, Canseco has called out left fielder Khris Davis for having “the worst throwing arm I have ever seen,” questioned why the A’s fired pitching coach Curt Young, and equated the major league club to a Triple-A team earlier this year.
“If I see a terrible play, it’s, ‘ Wow, what was he thinking?’ ” he said. “Another analyst might say he’ll get it right next time. But what happened right there?
“If you struck out four times and you stunk, I’m going to call you on it. Hopefully next time you have three great at-bats. But if you have three bad at-bats, I’m going to call you on it, too.”
Canseco’s paycheck comes from NBC Sports California, but neither NBCSCA nor the A’s had to receive a sign-off from Major League Baseball to put him on their broadcasts.
His unfiltered takes have allowed the former American League MVP to use his platform to hammer on baseball’s biggest issues, including the hypocrisy of Hall of Fame voters and PED use.
He also has stayed true to himself with his quirkiness and antics, pranking host Mindi Bach and analyst Bip Roberts in the Bay Area studio when he and near-identical twin brother Ozzie switched places to see how long it would take for the crew to notice. Spoiler: Roberts spotted the “im- postor” shortly after Ozzie started talking, and the instudio crew tried to remain composed between chuckles before Jose entered the frame to let everyone else in on the joke.
Canseco’s future as a broadcaster will be determined in the offseason when NBCSCA evaluates its talent pool, how everyone performed and whom it re-signs for 2018.
Some former ballplay- ers find a sustainable income flow a struggle in their post-playing days. Canseco won’t disclose how much he makes off home run derbies and other baseball-circus ventures, but points to another motivation.
“I fill my plate with physical things because I truly feel that even though I was severed, ex- communicated from baseball, I still represent the game of baseball,” Canseco said. “I don’t ever want to be one of these players that leaves the game and (becomes) 300, 350 pounds and when you look at him, you don’t even know who he is. Athletes have a responsibility, even when they’re retired, to represent their sport.”
In the years since his persona as the “godfather of steroids” died down, Canseco concluded that his addiction wasn’t to steroids at all
He never has been able to let go of baseball. To be fair, he has never really tried despite sporadic attempts to dip into other sports and cheesy entertainment ventures.
Canseco is still chasing the dream he feels was derailed because of his fallout with Major League Baseball. He has gotten a taste of that acceptance as the A’s have slowly welcomed him back with the 1989 World Series reunion, Jose Canseco Bobblehead Night, inclusion among the group of franchise legends often recognized and the chance to get his foot in the door as a broadcaster. Will it ever be enough? To Canseco’s mind, coaching is the only way to fill that yearning. He got a start on it when he came back to play with the Pittsburg Diamonds each of the last three summers.
“He’s a very open guy and genuine in anything that he speaks to you about,” one Diamonds player said during Canseco’s recent stint with the club. “A lot of us have asked him for hitting tips and things of that nature, but we also talked about his lifestyle and how he used to handle the pressure at 20, 25 years old. It’s nice to get that advice from an icon in Major League Baseball.”
Canseco has never let go of the coaching dream, but he’s also skeptical of it ever coming true.
Former A’s pitching ace Dave Stewart, Canseco’s long- ago teammate and current broadcast partner, thinks it will.
“I think at some point he will get an opportunity to coach,” Stewart said. “It may not be at the major league level right away. There’s always going to be a proving ground for him. I think somebody will take a chance.”
Will Canseco every truly be back in baseball? Maybe not. But right now he’s as close as he can get, and he’ll do everything he can to keep it that way while still pushing the envelope.
“I’ve screwed up my whole entire life,” Canseco said. “I think screwing up, experiencing life, taking risks, taking challenges, knowing that you’re going to enter an environment that you’re going to lose but you’re going to gain experience. I’m not afraid to take risks.”