Perfect I'm Not By David Wells with Chris Kreski

waymoresports.thestar.com Mar. 16, 2003. 01:00 AM Richard Griffin

Wells the author hurls literary junk ball

DUNEDIN, Fla.—The David Wells storm is still swirling. The early book reviews are in and, thankfully for the first-time author, nobody's perfect. The fine the Yankees imposed on him will do nothing but promote sales of the book.

Perfect I'm Not, available in bookstores this week, is a quick, readable, self-serving, butt-kicking, butt-kissing ode to sports excess and Wells' perceived place in the centre of the baseball universe. Truthfully, his self-importance is grossly overstated. The importance of being Boomer has never been more important — to Boomer.

There aren't many surprises in the book. As expected, Wells fawns all ovcr George Steinbrenner, Yankee stars past and present, baseball friends David Cone and Kirk Gibson, and various and sundry rock-and-rollers and show-business types.

What will come as a surprise to Jays fans is the depth of Wells' disdain for all things Canadian. He rants against everything from Toronto fans and media to Pat Gillick, Gord Ash, Cito Gaston, Exhibition Stadium, the SkyDome, the ordeal of clearing customs, the RCMP, etc.

What doesn't come as a surprise is his belief that nothing he has ever done in life, in terms of anti-social behaviour, deserves an apology. For example:

Punching his older sister in the face as a youth and breaking her nose is explained by the fact that his late, sainted mother, "Attitude Annie," a long-time biker chick with the Hells Angels, said his sibling deserved it.

Leaving his Venezuelan Winter League team as a rookie without notifying either the team's owners or the Blue Jays organization is explained away as the result of too many cockroaches and fears for his personal safety, even though everyone else who headed to Venezuela that winter hung in.

The famed SkyDome incident of throwing the ball into the right-field corner when Gaston tried to remove him from a game and then following up by swearing at his manager and engaging in clubhouse fisticuffs is all Cito's fault for demanding he throw a changeup to a lefty.

Backing out of a handshake agreement with Jerry Colangelo on a free-agent contract with the Diamondbacks after the 2001 season is justified by his belief that his destiny is as a Yankee and, as we all know, even ethics and honesty can't stand in the way of destiny.

Breaking his hand in a brawl after the funeral of his mother in 1997 is explained away by the fact that the two guys he fought cheesed him off by hiding the keys of his rental car under the front seat. Plus, they were as big as he was. He claimed he had not had a drink before the fight but did admit to getting drunk later, to combat the effects of his throbbing hand.

A fight with police officers outside a Chicago bar in the company of fellow Jays rookie Todd Stottlemyre is explained by Wells' contention that he was abused by a little cop letting his Napoleonic feelings get the best of him. Boomer, of course, did nothing wrong but was punished by the Jays sending him to Syracuse.

Wells says he got just one hour of sleep before his perfect game, as per this excerpt: "5:00 a.m. Drunk, exhausted, reeking, reeling, I flop into bed in a comatose heap. Brandon (his son) dive-bombs me at 6:05 a.m. He's loud. He wants breakfast. I want to die." Seven hours later, he was on the mound at Yankee Stadium.

Wells claims David Cone called him from the Yankee Stadium dugout while Roger Clemens was being pounded by Anaheim in '99, with the crowd screaming "Boom-er, Boom-er, Boom-er." The allegation casts Cone's professionalism in a bad light. He has denied the incident ever occurred.

Which — along with Wells' backtracking on his statement that "25 to 40 per cent of major leaguers use steroids" and his recent revision that maybe he was only hung over, not half-drunk, for his perfect game — invites the question: How much of this opus can be trusted as actual history and how much of it is self-serving pap written to be controversial?

Wells has apologized to the Yankees organization and his teammates, claiming he never meant to offend anyone — except, it seems, the Blue Jays and their fans. It's an easy read with enough behind-the-scenes recollections to keep it interesting, but Wells should have waited until he retired. His constant backtracking on what is purported to be an autobiography is unseemly.