The LA Weekly has an interesting piece written by Shari Albert that not only makes golf sound like fun, but also exposes Jose Canseco as too drunk to drive a golf cart. Good times! Albert, writing from the first-person vantage point of a seventh-hole bartender, details the goings-on of the charity event, which was chockful o' Playboy Playmate (and wannabe) goodness.
One of the actual Playmates got so wasted she pulled aside her G-string to squat and pee right next to my tiki bar. Then, a golf cart pulled up, and out walked a strapping Latino with the arms of a Valkin Warrior. Someone said that it was Jose Canseco… I began pouring him shots and didn’t stop for a good 25 minutes.
Throughout the day, gossip leaked in through the Golf Girl grapevine… a Bunny was carted off for smoking rock on one of the greens… There was also a rumor that Canseco, after leaving my watering hole, tipped over his golf cart, causing his wife to sprain her wrist. Oops. Was that my fault?
Hmm… Yes, yes: crack would make gold more fun. Go on.
Then a man the size of a refrigerator who was said to play for the Giants (appropriately) decided it would be funny to tackle my tiki bar. He knocked the whole thing down around me like a bad spaghetti-Western set. When I asked him if he was going to clean up the mess, he looked at me like I was from another planet.