By New Times
By Connor Radnovich
By Robrt L. Pela and Amy Silverman
By Ray Stern
By Keegan Hamilton
By Matthew Hendley
By Monica Alonzo
By Monica Alonzo
"I have done a lot for this community since I came to ASU to pitch for [legendary baseball coach] Jim Brock [in 1979 and 1980]. This has been very stressful for me, my wife of 30-plus years, and my three great kids."
Undoubtedly, the Brian Weymouth case (which encompasses several ongoing cases in Maricopa County Superior Court) is a mosaic of broken personal and professional relationships.
It includes a bunch of fast talkers, famous names, and lots of money — most of it lost at this point.
The luminaries include Cooper (Phoenix's most storied music-maker), Chavez (Mexico's most storied boxer), and Sandra Day O'Connor (Arizona's most storied judge).
Cooper and Chavez were Weymouth's business partners in separate deals. Both men now are accusing the sports and entertainment agent of the same thing, which is misappropriating and stealing large sums of money from businesses he was in charge of shepherding — downtown Phoenix's Coopers'town first and, later, Campeones.
"Brian is someone who just can't stop himself from doing things he shouldn't," says Shep Gordon, Alice Cooper's longtime manager. "And when confronted with his wrongdoing, I don't think remorse enters the picture. Instead, the rhythm of his relationships is that he blames everyone else and sues. I'll give him this: He is a ballsy SOB."
Cooper introduced Weymouth to Gordon after they first met in the mid-'90s while coaching their sons in an Arcadia youth baseball league.
The 63-year-old rock star (née Vincent Fournier) tells New Times, "Shep and I have worked together 43 years on a handshake. I feel bad that I introduced him to Brian Weymouth, who obviously operates in a different way. [Neither] handshakes nor contracts seem to mean anything to him."
That is almost word for word what Ahmed Santos has to say about Weymouth.
Santos, a former professional boxer who now writes a newspaper column and is a TV fight commentator in Mexico, says he was "the hookup between Weymouth and Julio. It makes me sick. [Weymouth] is a good talker, but he doesn't walk the walk. There's always some excuse; it's always someone else's fault. He's like the guy in that movie Catch Me If You Can, smiling and funny — until he's not."
No matter who is right or wrong, many of those involved with Brian Weymouth, including seemingly seasoned businesspeople, clearly failed to do due diligence before agreeing to put their faith — and their money — with him.
A prime example is how Brian O'Connor introduced Wergin to Weymouth as a potential investor in the multimillion-dollar Campeones project before checking out details of Weymouth's ugly 2006 departure from Coopers'town, which now is the subject of its own civil litigation.
No one seems to have even questioned Weymouth about his own financial past, which included three bankruptcies (two personal and one business-related) in the late 1980s and early 1990s, or about lawsuits in which he was (and is) a defendant, all over allegedly broken financial promises.
Instead, they were wowed by his convincing patter and friendly disposition, endless name-dropping, and promises of a pot of gold sitting just around the bend.
"I would call Brian the artful dodger," says Dale Jensen, former majority owner of the Arizona Diamondbacks and a venture capitalist whose own dealings with Weymouth by his own account "cost me several hundred thousand dollars, at the least. I have always done it by the book, but I took Brian at his word, period. That's on me."
Weymouth's criminal attorney disagrees that his client is dirty.
"Mr. Weymouth has, in fact, been a pillar of the community," Craig Orent wrote in a recent court pleading, "as evidenced by his numerous contacts and friendships with judges (former and present), former prosecutors, his prior business successes, and his community involvement."
Orent continues, "Yet a disgruntled former partner or two comes forward and, with one fell swoop, convinces or influences a prosecutor to shed her objectivity and to personally attack Mr. Weymouth."
Weymouth does have some folks (not counting the attorneys he's paying) in his corner, including former colleague Mike Rakowsky.
"Brian is far from perfect, but who is?" Rakowsky says, sounding like the public-relations pro he is. "He had winners, such as Coopers'town, and restaurants before that one. He's had losers, too, like all of us. But for Julio and the others to stick the knife in him at this point is really disappointing."
Brian Weymouth has nothing nice to say about his estranged business partner Brian O'Connor.
He insists that O'Connor has "used his mother's good name to influence various governmental agencies . . . Sandra Day O'Connor either knows [that] or she doesn't, [but] either way, her influence is being used with or without her permission."
To try to prove his point, he provided New Times with a July 2010 pleading from Mesa Municipal Court filed by a defense attorney for Ahmed Santos — the boxer turned commentator and close associate of Chavez's.
In March 2010, Mesa police charged Santos with misdemeanor assault after a brief clash with Weymouth at Campeones over money and supposedly broken promises.
Phoenix attorney Bruce Alldredge asked the court to postpone a hearing because "one of the witnesses, Brian O'Connor (son of former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor), will be unable to appear."