Quinn unleashes his agenda on the audience like a bat to the face. A former commodities broker with a nomadic upbringing he's a student of the world, traveling to more than thirty countries and living in 17 states including every state in New England. He’s been in at least five 6.0+ Earthquakes, two of them while completely naked. He’s been a near victim of a Suicide bombing in Colombo Sri Lanka and cannot stand the taste of cilantro. He is an avid outdoorsman who owns his own machete’. His political savvy is championed only by his desire to breathe the word of the people. He makes a heck of a pitcher of mental Kool-aid and loves to drink it himself. He likes sky surfing, shucking corn, grilling, eagles, (but not grilling eagles) bags of candy, The Beastie Boys, special-ops, eating raw fish, conspiracy theory, light wresting, waves, great literature, hauling sand, Lubrication, earning his downhill, bass, laughter, tears, waxing philosophically, wrangling cattle, horses & cock-fighting. Quinn will never live a "Normal" existence and is perfectly happy with that. His only father figure told him to be a crab fisherman and his grandfather used him to smuggle precious Gemstones into the country. With unconditional love he gains super powers that are of such great intensity that he can spin the earth on the tip of his finger right in front of you. He likes to laugh, wax philosophical and make out.
New England born, product of guts and hard work he takes his lunch pail attitude to the air like every show is his last (on more than one occasion it has been!) To say that he’s a modern day philosopher isn’t fair... There’s no definition for his prophetic views of this world. You only need to sit and have a beer with the guy to realize that he’s been taught by the great professors like Johnny Cash and Steve Earle. He’ll tell you that “Everyone Can find a song for every time they’ve lost, and every time they’ve won” Cantara lives vicariously through the common man, carrying their lives on his shoulders like an iron-willed sherpa ascending the Hillary step. The man is a rock of a human being. Saying he’s steadfast in his convictions is an understatement, Cantara has the sensitivity of a Navy Seal, but you wouldn’t know it when you see him as a father or a husband. Known for delivering sage wisdom while channeling the lyrics of great songwriters he’s been accused of invoking tears in the recipients eyes. He loves to cook, makes a helluva Graham Cracker crusted spinach quiche and if you’re ever lucky enough to try his homemade soup then you will die happy.
USA Today – The scene plays out at colleges across the country each night, but on this rainy evening inside a dimly lit Bay Area junior college gymnasium, it serves as prelude to a debut unlike any other in the sport’s history. When the focus of the 12-minute pep talk pivots to this topic, the eyes of 10 18- to 20-year-old women – including one deaf player and another woman a few inches shy of 5-feet – focus on the one Mission College player who has yet to play this season. There near the door sits the oldest (50 years old), tallest (6-feet-6, 230 pounds) and most muscular person in the room: Gabrielle Ludwig.
Ludwig nervously runs her hand over the sock approaching the tattoo on her leg. She has long been eager yet apprehensive about this moment. Can she still play? What will she hear from adults in the stands? What will her opponents on the court whisper? And can she keep her emotions in check? Few outside this room know it all comes back to that name. They don’t know she is 50 and last played a college basketball game in 1980 – as a man. They don’t know the odyssey: one failed suicide attempt, two failed marriages; one 19-year-old daughter who insists on calling her dad, two girls who insist on calling her Momma Gabbi. The woman teammates call Gabbi, Giant or Big Sexy was born Robert John Ludwig in Germany three decades before any of them were a glimmer in their parents’ eyes.
“I don’t want her in the same locker room as my daughter,” Casey says. “That’s a man with girls. Take Shaq and cut his (penis) off and we’ll put him out there with the girls. What’s the difference? You have daughters out there. Mine might be a Tom boy, but she is all girl. They let too much (expletive) go by. Was it Adam and Eve or Adam and Steve? ”She’s got the parts? Just because she has the parts does not mean she is one. That was man-made. Obviously it was not God made because she did not come out like that. Man-made. Fake.”