I have realized that there was really only one reason why I watched The Celebrity Apprentice—and that was to see the delightfully oblivious Jose Canseco in action. That is, until he quit the show last Sunday.
I had forgotten just how incredible he was on other reality shows. He provides constant entertainment without any realization that people are laughing AT him, not with him. It hit me last night that the man badly needs his own show; he was made for reality television.
That got me thinking: In addition to Jose, who else could fill out the cast of this ESPN-meets-Bravo disaster in the making? And what sort of situations could we put these players in to get the most dramatic, hilarious footage possible?
First of all, we should establish that this show would be set in a ridiculous house, a la The Real World with a hint of the circus-like atmosphere of The Surreal Life. For example, there would be indoor batting cages instead of pool tables in the game room, bleachers instead of couches in the living room, a concession stand instead of a bar area. You know, really impractical but aesthetically pleasing features.
There would also be bunk beds, only because I would like to see Milton Bradley and Ozzie Guillen fight over who gets the top.
One bedroom, for when lady friends or “massage therapists” visit, would be designated “The Dugout,” because it will get dirty up in there. The confession/interview room will be called “The Clubhouse,” because that is where all the gossip and bitching will happen. Finally, the gym and training room will simply be known as “The Juice Bar.”
Let’s discuss the cast. We are just winging it here, so the producers are open to suggestions in the comments.
He is our proverbial cleanup hitter. There is just so much magic here. I mean, he is a reality television professional. Besides The Celebrity Apprentice, he has also starred in The Surreal Life, My Life on the D-List and my personal favorite, Stripper’s Ball: Jenna Jameson (along with Dennis Rodman).
He brings so many different...talents to the plate. His stints with boxing, kung fu and MMA. His books and expertise on steroids. His domestic violence, battery and fertility drug smuggling incidents. His twin brother, Ozzie, who he often uses as a decoy during autograph signings.
Please note that Jose was recently dumb enough to use Ozzie during a celebrity boxing match; his ruse was discovered when people noticed that, strangely enough, Jose’s unique bicep tattoo was nowhere to be found. Really? You are known for your love of sleeveless shirts, and you employ your brother when you know he will be seen without his shirt? Amazing.
But none of that really compares to the gems that Jose shares with us on Twitter. Here is a sampling:
Sigh. We, too, are still “waiting for an intelligent scenario,” Jose. All I know is that he is sure to incite a few fights, smile like a pedophile at creeped-out women and give mind-blowingly ridiculous confessions/interviews.
Jose, call me. We can make this happen. This is the comeback for which you have been desperately seeking. (Part of me is now apprehensively expecting an email from, like, email@example.com).
He would piss the hell out of everyone. He would attack someone, demand more camera time, create drama to force more camera time and then be kicked off the show and forced to attend anger management classes. He would somehow blame the Cubs for this.
He would just plod along, sulking that he even had to participate in the show despite the fact that he would be getting handsomely paid to do so. Instead of hustling to “The Clubhouse” when scheduled for an interview, he would just shuffle along, grumbling that he is so much better than these old geezers anyway.
Then, in a tantrum equivalent to Vanilla Ice’s epic reality-show meltdown, he would publicly demand that these fools respect him. It would pretty much be epic.
He would not give interviews. He would not talk to any of his castmates. He would not eat or travel with anyone else on the show. He would just glare at the camera with his bulging arms crossed, declare that he hates white people and ominously smirk, while collecting a paycheck and waiting for his lawyers to call.
He would sit in a special office with like six computers, each set to one of his various social networking platforms. He would also have six televisions, each set to a different game in a different sport in a different country. This is to appease his ADHD. He would then give rapid interviews while swigging from a bottle of Captain Morgan’s and responding to his millions of cyber-friends.
He would also make up nicknames for everyone in the house, lighten the mood considerably and stick his tongue out at various inappropriate moments.
He would just constantly walk around, talking shit to the camera, while referring to himself by his self-titled nickname “Cinco Ocho.”
He would flex in the mirror and give long-winded speeches about how it is his civic right and honor to speak for the under-represented and underprivileged victims known as MLB closers who deserve to be paid like starters even though they only pitch a few innings every week.
He would amusingly compare himself to Mariano Rivera and talk about his hope of posing in Playgirl one day.
He would tweet the entire experience in his unique style of broken and hilarious English. He would also make the CDTF network extremely nervous with his propensity for utilizing four-letter words and harsh criticism. A ticking time bomb who would provide constant laughs, but who could also explode at any moment—a reality television treasure.
As our house alcoholic, he would be responsible for organizing beer pong games and quarters tournaments. He would then get wasted on the games he organized and threaten everyone that he has a gun. He may or may not pull out an actual gun. On second thought, maybe he shouldn’t be invited.
He would bring the bluster, the bitching and the crotchety old man factor to the program. Also, in the most condescending way possible, he would somehow insult every single member of the household while simultaneously bragging how he is best friends with each of them. Someone will most likely push him down the stairs by the season finale.
He would provide a certain boring sense of normalcy. Or, at the very least, he would act as the cast member completely horrified to be involved in the first place.
Lance would golly-shucks his way through heated moments, leaning heavily on his Texas drawl to diffuse drama and be a leader. He would obviously fail to do so in the shadow of the other dominant personalities, rendering himself to nothing more than a punch line of Fat Elvis jokes.
Ever since Lance agreed to the Yankees trade last year, it is obvious that he is open to new experiences. But if he is unwilling to sign up, he could be replaced with David Ortiz. Big Papi for Fat Elvis seems like a fair trade of large, happy people.
He would have a parade of blonde women, celebrities and publicists constantly meeting in the house with him, perfecting his already ruined reputation. He would probably get caught making out with himself in the mirror or lying out on the front lawn with his shirt off.
The Bearded Wonder would bring his mohawk, his crazy personality and obviously his black leather S&M mask borrowed from “The Machine.” He would also wear bright orange sneakers throughout the series and scream obscenities while throwing his hands up to the heavens at the end of every show. His buddy, Tim Lincecum, will occasionally stop by with his bong.
Please note that J.D. Drew and Nick Johnson were going to participate, but they got injured.
Joe Mauer or Grady Sizemore: Clearly for the eye candy factor. Or, in Grady’s case, for his coffee-making abilities?
Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire: Mark would just cry in the corner, his lip quivering, murmuring that he is not “here to speak about baseball,” while Sammy would lose his ability to speak English somewhere around episode four.
Fritz Peterson and Mike Kekich (a.k.a. The Yankees Wife Swappers). They have a movie coming out, so I feel like this would be the perfect cross-promotional opportunity for them. They can totally bring their better halves. Or quarters? I am not sure how this relationship/orgy thing works.
Lenny Dykstra: He would provide unwanted and entirely illogical legal and financial advice. He would also sleep in a car in front of the house.
Jason Giambi: He would bring the keg and the gold thong. Because really? Nothing else matters.
The Ghost of George Steinbrenner: Because the very idea is enough to put the fear of god in anyone else. I really miss you, Boss. Based upon the unfortunate circumstances of July 2010, I am sure that he has a lot that he has wanted to say publicly for months now. I am looking at you, A.J. Burnett.
Umpire Joe West and Danielle Staub
Both are despised villains of the highest caliber. Joe would wear a cowboy hat and force everyone to listen to him perform live country songs, while Danielle would try to sleep with all the men in the house. She would then sell the sex tape. Andy Cohen will obviously do the reunion shows.
The possibilities/scenarios are endless. Wiffle-ball tourneys. Charity events. A field trip to Cooperstown so we can watch them all argue about their possible inclusions. A kid’s birthday party or a bar mitzvah. Autograph signings and baseball card expos. Perhaps a cupcake-baking contest or a synchronized-swimming lesson. Double dates gone wrong. An '80s prom. Tell me that you wouldn’t watch this show!
But who else would you guys want to see on The Real Baseball Players of America’s Counties?
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