The Chief of Chiefs Has Some Advice for Speedy Canseco

A copy of “An Open Letter to Jose Canseco” has just come into my possession. It is not a letter from a pen pal. It is not a love letter in the sand. It is not fan mail from some flounder, as Bullwinkle used to say. It is not a letter of reference from Margo Adams on Boston Red Sox stationery.

No, it is the letter of the law.

Written by the president of the California Police Chiefs Assn., Chief William E. Eastman of the pleasant town of Pleasanton, this two-page correspondence is addressed to the most notorious individual to wear the letter A since Hester Prynne.

Yes, it is a little personal memo mailed to professional baseball player and amateur auto racer Jose Canseco of the Oakland Athletics, the Leon Spinks of baseball, the man who has brought new meaning to the old slugger’s expression: “I was just looking for something I could drive.”

Eastman sent copies of the letter to club and league officials. The chief has had just about enough of Canseco’s act--which is certainly more than the A’s can say.

Now then, as most of you expert baseball fans who voted Canseco into the All-Star game--then were denied the chance to see him play--undoubtedly have noticed, Jose the A has been knocking the cover off the ball ever since rejoining the Athletics, which happened to be the very day they resumed play after the American League’s victory at Anaheim Stadium July 11.

Oh, how some people whined that Canseco was unfit to play, that the fans had no business expecting to see this inactive player play for the All-Stars. Yeah, sure, you bet. Last time I looked, Canseco already had more home runs in 30 or so at-bats than certain All-Stars had in 330 or more. Canseco hopping on one foot could outhit most of the Dodgers.

The trouble with Canseco is, he gets into trouble. From spring training through mid-season, that bad man Jose has become the most untrustworthy man on America’s highways since Joe Isuzu. He drives like there’s no tomorrow. In fact, he drives like he’s due to arrive yesterday.

Apparently, Canseco thinks the speedometer is the most unnecessary feature of an automobile since the hood ornament. If he hits that gas pedal any harder, his feet are going to go right through the floorboards, like Fred Flintstone’s. Jose is doing more than experiencing life in the fast lane. He is turning our nation’s freeways into his own personal Autobahn.

And then, every time he gets pulled over, Canseco accuses somebody of having it in for him, of treating him like a common criminal-- scapegoated, to borrow Chief Eastman’s expression. He doesn’t seem to understand that he is being prosecuted, not persecuted.

Anyhow, the chief of chiefs has seen enough.

“Dear Mr. Canseco:” Eastman writes.

“I have been an avid baseball fan for more than 40 years. Stan Musial, Joe DiMaggio, Roberto Clemente, Jackie Robinson and Sandy Koufax were exemplary players and human beings. They set examples of behavior and responsibility for their own, and future, generations. It’s not too late for you, Jose. But, you’re missing the boat.

“Your brushes with the law don’t qualify you for the Ten Most Wanted list. You are, however, well entrenched as one of the least exemplary role models in baseball. You have displayed arrogant disregard for others, indicated that you should receive special treatment under the law and scapegoated.

“In the last few months, according to news reports, you have been:

“Charged with violating state law for having a loaded handgun in your car;

“Ticketed in Pleasanton for speeding;

“Ticketed in Florida for reportedly going 125 m.p.h.;

“Ticketed in Arizona for speeding;

“Ticketed for speeding in Castro Valley (Calif.);

“Ticketed for speeding, no driver’s license and not wearing a seat belt in Castro Valley.

“What is cause for greater concern has been the complete absence on your part of accepting any personal responsibility for your own actions. You have blamed your cars, the police and even your celebrity status. You are apparently a victim in your own mind. Your sniveling was quite profound when you bemoaned the fact that your teammate, who was following you, was not ticketed. That’s really class!”

Eastman goes on to make reference to California Highway Patrol Officer Melody Heilmann, who pulled over Canseco’s speeding Porsche on Crow Canyon Road in Castro Valley on the day of the All-Star game. (See? If they had let Jose play, he wouldn’t be in this fix. Then again, Anaheim police might have busted him for doing 80 in the Big A parking lot.)

At a workout the day after he was ticketed, Canseco told reporters: “The lady officer that stopped me had an attitude problem. She told me to get the hell out of there, and that’s no way to talk to a major league ballplayer.”

Eastman’s response:

“I can only guess about the chauvinism, but your expectation of a dual standard is obvious . . .

“You are an enormously talented baseball player. (But) with celebrity status comes a public responsibility. This is an element greatly lacking, not only in sports, but throughout our society. You will be an exemplary ballplayer and human being once you demonstrate that you are a responsible person who accepts accountability for his actions.”

Exemplary letter, I’d say, although Chief Bill does seem to have a thing for the word exemplary.

Canseco says he has no idea where the chief “is coming from.” (Pleasanton, would be a good guess.)

Eastman maintains that he wrote the letter because: “My concern is that he’s going to get into trouble for killing somebody or killing himself. I think it’s a tragedy waiting to happen.”

Agreed. So slow down, Jose. Keep in mind, dead men can’t hit curves. You keep driving that fast, you’re going to be making a slide some day, hood first. Your teammates wear uniforms trimmed in green and gold. They won’t look so good with black armbands.