- Gebundene Ausgabe: 432 Seiten
- Verlag: William Morrow (14. März 2003)
- Sprache: Englisch
- ISBN-10: 0060508248
- ISBN-13: 978-0060508241
- Größe und/oder Gewicht: 23,1 x 15,2 x 3,3 cm
- Durchschnittliche Kundenbewertung: 4.0 von 5 Sternen Alle Rezensionen anzeigen (1 Kundenrezension)
- Amazon Bestseller-Rang: Nr. 1.033.043 in Englische Bücher (Siehe Top 100 in Englische Bücher)
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Amazon.co.uk
Perfect I'm Not is, indeed, not a perfect book, but as in baseball, literary imperfection can make for a thrilling ride. Part Horatio Alger, part libertine, Wells peppers the narrative of his rise from poverty in Ocean Beach, California to baseball fame and fortune with numerous prurient tales from behind the locker room door. He is frank about the use of steroids among his fellow players and he's not afraid to burn major bridges (one must assume they were already on fire) in his ferocious attacks on such baseball luminaries as veteran general manager Pat Gillick. And the story behind his woozy perfect game is legend. All this is entertaining stuff and worth the price of admission.
The book, however, falls too often into a pattern of explication and justification for Wells' "entertaining" run-ins with the law, baseball management, players, and even his own family. We learn that young Dave Wells once punched his sister and broke her jaw, but, he explains, this was because his sister had scraped his sunburned back with her fingernails. This childhood story is then repeated--in a grown up form--several times. In many cases, it does seem that he is justified in claiming innocence--or at least in claiming he got an eye for an eye. But repetition of these explications--which even include bad pitching performances caused, we learn, by nascent physical problems (elbow, shoulder, bone chips, gout, back)--take away his agency in his own story. The hero is always a victim. In the end, then, the book is as flawed as its author, offering entertaining insight--some perhaps unintentional--into the man and his game. --Patrick O'Kelley, Amazon.com
Amazon.com
Perfect I'm Not is, indeed, not a perfect book, but as in baseball, literary imperfection can make for a thrilling ride. Part Horatio Alger, part libertine, Wells peppers the narrative of his rise from poverty in Ocean Beach, California to baseball fame and fortune with numerous prurient tales from behind the locker room door. He is frank about the use of steroids among his fellow players and he's not afraid to burn major bridges (one must assume they were already on fire) in his ferocious attacks on such baseball luminaries as veteran general manager Pat Gillick. And the story behind his woozy perfect game is legend. All this is entertaining stuff and worth the price of admission.
The book, however, falls too often into a pattern of explication and justification for Wells’s "entertaining" run-ins with the law, baseball management, players, and even his own family. We learn that young Dave Wells once punched his sister and broke her jaw, but, he explains, this was because his sister had scraped his sunburned back with her fingernails. This childhood story is then repeated--in a grown up form--several times. In many cases, it does seem that he is justified in claiming innocence--or at least in claiming he got an eye for an eye. But repetition of these explications--which even include bad pitching performances caused, we learn, by nascent physical problems (elbow, shoulder, bone chips, gout, back)--take away his agency in his own story. The hero is always a victim. In the end, then, the book is as flawed as its author, offering entertaining insight--some perhaps unintentional--into the man and his game.
--Patrick O’Kelley
In diesem Buch
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Einleitungssatz
Saturday night, 7:15 P.M. My frosted pink lipstick is lavered on thick. Lesen Sie die erste Seite
Buchdeckel | Copyright | Inhaltsverzeichnis | Auszug | Rückseite
Saturday night, 7:15 P.M. My frosted pink lipstick is lavered on thick. Lesen Sie die erste Seite
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Format:Gebundene Ausgabe
Über 16 Jahre Baseball in der höhsten Liga der Welt - bei sieben verschiedenen Clubs. Da kann man doch einiges erzählen über das tolle Leben als Basball-Star.
Das macht Boomer hier auch. Zum Teil sogar sehr offen und erfrischend.
Doping? Ja das ist ein Problem im Baseball, auch wenn die MLB etwas anders sagt. Wells dagegen meint mindestens 25% der Spieler schlucken Steoride und ähhnliches.
Alkohol? Auch ein Problem im Glamourleben der Stars. Auch hier sagt die MLB natürlich etwas anderes.
Das macht Boomer hier auch. Zum Teil sogar sehr offen und erfrischend.
Doping? Ja das ist ein Problem im Baseball, auch wenn die MLB etwas anders sagt. Wells dagegen meint mindestens 25% der Spieler schlucken Steoride und ähhnliches.
Alkohol? Auch ein Problem im Glamourleben der Stars. Auch hier sagt die MLB natürlich etwas anderes.
Natürlich kann man sich fragen, ob die vielen feuchtfröhlichen Anekdoten des Boomer Wells lesenswert sind, aber Spaß macht es doch.
Und wenn der Arbeitgeber des Autors, die unnahbaren und perfekten New York Yankees Ihrem Angestellten eine 100.000,-$ Strafe für diese Veröffentlichung aufbrummen, muss an dem Ganzen etwas dran sein.
Übrigens, bei Boomers Verdienst bedeutet die Strafe einen Verlust von ca. acht Arbeitstagen. Baseballprofi muss man halt sein ...
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46 Rezensionen
10 von 10 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
A surprisingly funny and candid read. I loved it.
10. September 2003
Format:Gebundene Ausgabe
I never liked David Wells, mostly because I only knew him as a Yankee player. That alone is generally enough to get me not to like someone. :) I wanted to check this out solely because of the "hype" surrounding the book. And after having read the book, I have to wonder if the negative press surrounding the book and some of it's "expositions" weren't self inflicted. Read the book. It's a wonderfully entertaining read. He talks about all the problems he had in his life early on, from his time in the minors, to the boredom in the bullpen (although his story about getting women in the stands to flash them is awesome) to his battles with team management, and lots on the Yankees. I also got a charge out of his comments on former Reds owner Marge Schott, and her dog.
I have to admit that this book goes on my recommend list. It was a funny read, and for a baseball fan like myself, gives me some insight into the mind of a baseball player. I really enjoyed it. The link here is for the hardback edition of the book. There is a paperback version scheduled for release, but it's not currently slated until Mar 1, 2004. The hardback is available now.
Oh, BTW, if you're someone who isn't into the liberal use of foul language, you might want to stay away from the book. It's not like every third word is f this or f that, but there is definitely more than a smattering of f-bombs and the like in the book.
7 von 7 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
Don't believe the hype
15. April 2003
Format:Gebundene Ausgabe
I'm not sure why David Wells was slapped with a six-figure fine over this book. Most of the "controversy" appears to be caused by out-of-context quotes randomly selected by the press. The supposed negative statements about teammates Mike Mussina and Roger Clemens are spoken in the larger context of praising their baseball skills. The much-criticized "25 to 40 percent" statistic of ballplayers who use illegal steroids and performance-enhancing drugs ("10 to 25%" is the number in the edited book) is part of an enlightening discussion of how Jose Canseco went from being a minor-league toothpick, to a tree trunk with 462 career home runs (and a book deal of his own).
Anyway, this book is just plain funny. Most sports biographies are written by sportswriters: half of them by Dick Schaap, half by Peter Golenbock, and Catfish Hunter for some reason chose Armen Keteyian. Wells goes with comedy writer Chris Kreski, best known for William Shatner's non-fiction epics, and "Growing Up Brady". Kreski's also a lifelong Mets fan, which makes the book easier for me to read, certainly. His ability to recap baseball games is only adequate -- he makes some minor factual errors, misspells some of the player names Wells dictated into the tape recorder, and gives Wells an impossibly specific memory about old games ("Two hours and forty-eight minutes later, 49,328 screaming fans watched me ...") -- but gives Boomer plenty of jokes and cutting insights into the many peaks and valleys of his career.
Wells decries the corporate naming of Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego, saying that to him, it'll always be the Jack Murphy Stadium of his youth. Which is a wonderful sentiment... and wrong, since it was actually called San Diego Stadium until Wells was 17.
Boomer doesn't use the space to get on a soapbox and preach about baseball. No diatribes about interleague play, or the wild card. Wells is more interested in topless girls in the stands during spring training. He's clearly having too much fun in the major leagues to worry about salary caps and the fate of small market teams. Who would you rather read, Wells meeting Metallica's Lars Ulrich and describing Joe Torre's shock at AC/DC lyrics, or Whitey Herzog's whining about salary arbitration.
For a quick spring-training read, it's hard to get more entertaining than "Perfect I'm Not". If nothing else, hopefully Boomer will get his penalty money back in additional sales. And then lose twice to the Mets this summer.
8 von 10 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
Keep Crying, Sox Fans
18. März 2003
Format:Gebundene Ausgabe
3 reviews, 2 from people who obviously have not read the book and are Yankee-haters. The simple fact is, David Wells is a flake, but he's also a winner. He's the kind of guy that many a baseball fan would like to share a beer with, and I mean the regular fans, not the luxury box-sitting, shrimp cocktail-eating and leave in the 7th inning to beat the traffic "fans". The stories are about Wells' experiences, not what the media has spun to represent their own points of view and axes to grind. I applaud him for speaking his mind. There is going to be fallout from it, from people who object to the way that he portrays events, to the players and fans of cities and teams he has lit into, and he'll have to live with that. I appreciate his candor. He's no role model, certainly. And reading about his experiences, a sane, rational and sober person will conclude that it is not the way to make it to the major leagues. But it is how he chooses to live his life and as long as he's not hurting anyone I say "hoist another one, Boomer".
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