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The year was 1999. A fellow Evel Knievel collecting buddy and I went to Vegas to meet Evel at one of Robbie’s jumps. We had some original Evel jump photos from the 1970’s we wanted to show him. We met Evel in the Tropicana lounge before the jump.
Hanging out with there was Matthew McCaugnahey, in his “Samuel Jackson” leather jacket and yellow wraparound shades. You could tell he was really working the actor thing. Apparently they were talking to the Mattster about playing Evel in a feature film.
Anyway, we watched the jump and drank/gambled the rest of the night. Around midnight I’m in the airport terminal at the Burger King. Who’s standing next to me, sucking on a Coors Light? Matt McCaughnahey. I walked up to him and said, “Hey, research.” He said, “What?” I repeated “Research, you’re gonna be the man, right?”
He looked like he was about to spit in my face when he looked down and saw I was holding out the vintage B/W photos of Evel. He took them and thumbed through the pics. “These are nice,” he said.
Then I asked him to autograph the envelope to my wife. He took a pen and scribbled on it and handed it back. That’s what it looked like: a scribble. A doctor’s prescription form is more legible. Anyway. I took my BK and went to the gate.
I sat next to my buddy and said “McCaughnahey’s a dick. We should beat his ass.”
Then who’s in the same gate? Yep. McMatt. Complete with his entourage: they looked like the guys from Friends and Party of Five put together.
So, next thing I know, McMatt sits down next to me, leans over and says, “So, my boys said they heard you say you want to beat McCaugnahy. Is that true?"
I was so drunk all I wanted to do is eat my BK and pass out. So I said, “No, it was this guy,” pointing over to my (6’2” 225lb auto mechanic) friend, I continued, “and he didn’t say he wants to beat McCaugnahey. He said he wants to BE McCaugnahey. He wants to BE you. You know, do some space thing, and some lawyer thing...” referring to some of his recent roles.
McMatt leaned over to my buddy and said. “Is that true? You said you want to BE me?”
My buddy replied (through a mouthful of burger), “I don’t know what the f—k you’re talking about. You should get your story straight. Besides, you’re a big fellow. A guy could get hurt messing with you.”
At that, McMatt looked at us both, gave a dismissive gesture and went back over to his band of butt-brothers.
Then he was on our SOUTHWEST flight back to L.A. Cheap-ass.
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