IF YOU LIKE BASEBALL, THIS IS THE PERFECT BOOK FOR YOU. AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE BASEBALL, THIS IS THE PERFECT BOOK FOR YOU, TOO. JOHN ALBERT\'S WRECKING CREW IS NEITHER, AND IT’S BOTH-- A BOOK ABOUT HUMAN BEINGS OVERCOMING PERSONAL DEMONS THROUGH AMERICA’S NATIONAL PASTIME. THANKS TO HELLO WENDY AND A GRUELING DAY OF JURY DUTY SELECTION, I FOUND MY FAVORITE BOOK OF THE YEAR.
Vinnie Baggadonuts: The book has only been out a day, so I can’t ask you how the feedback’s been. You haven’t gotten a lot of feedback yet, have you?
John Albert: Well, I’ve gotten some reviews. I think we got five so far. Some of those are industry reviews, and then, of all places, Maxim.
Both: (laugh)
JA: I got four out of five stars in Maxim.
VB: Nice!
JA: And it’s running right next to a spread of Nikki Hilton in a bikini.
VB: So everyone’s going to read this review then.
Both: (laugh)
JA: I don’t know that their audience is so literate. Unless guys whack off and then read the book reviews.
VB: Yeah, man. It’s like, \"Shit, that was awesome. Now I need to get a book.\"
JA: (laughs)
VB: At least it’ll be your book.
JA: Right. Well, it’s sort of frightening that that might be my demographic.
VB: You inadvertently wound up getting all the Hilton fans who read Maxim. Then again, yours might be their first book. They might learn to read on Wrecking Crew.
JA: I believe that’s true! There’s a guy that works for the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and I had Flea do a blurb. Well, the guy comes to me and says, \"This is the greatest book I’ve ever read. But the last book I read was Evil Knievel\'s Dog or something, which was out back in the Seventies.\"
Both: (laugh)
VB: Well, I didn’t mention it when I reviewed it, but I read your entire book on my birthday while I was serving jury duty.
JA: Oh, wow.
VB: So I will never forget this book as long as I live.
Both: (laugh)
JA: Were you actually on a court case?
VB: No. Man, that would have been funnier if I was sitting in on a case, just reading your book. I just had to sit and wait to get called up, which I never did.
JA: Awww....
VB: That aside, though, it was a really good book. I just plowed through it.
JA: That’s good, man. You never know. I sort of wrote the thing late one night while I was jacked up on a lot of sports drinks, and I didn’t give it to anybody. Then I sent it in, and my feeling was they were going to send me what they owed me in the last of the paltry advance and not put it out.
Both: (laugh)
JA: I was sort of surprised at Scribner [publisher]-- number one that they liked it, and that they put it out and didn’t have any sort of moral objections to anything.
VB: Well, what would make you think someone wouldn\'t like the book?
JA: Self-loathing.
Both: (laugh)
VB: Okay. Beyond that.
JA: Well, I knew that people liked the initial story, because when the magazine article came out I immediately got offers from movie studios and all sorts of things. So I knew people liked the general concept, but I didn’t know if I could sustain it into a book. It’s one thing to write a short piece, which is this emotionally exhausting thing. But as I was writing the book, sometimes I was near tears, and other times I was just trying to make a word count.
Both: (laugh)
JA: But I think that’s just part of the process. It’s such a long ordeal, writing a book.
VB: Well, this story is probably the only time in my life I’ll ever have given a shit about what’s happening to people on a sports team. I’d be reading it, and it would come to some part where I’d yell, \"Aw, shit! What are they going to do now? They have a game tomorrow!\" Then I’d stop and think, \"Listen to yourself, man!\" I never cared about baseball so much.
JA: It’s strange, because I liked baseball as a kid. Kinda. But for people like us, it was almost more rebellious for us to start a baseball team-- because it is the most wholesome of sports-- than getting a mohawk or getting a tattoo on your face. Especially in the area I live and the subculture I’m in.
VB: That is about as punk rock as you could get.
JA: Right. And putting on actual uniforms and caring about it. If we had done it as some ironic conceptual art piece, people would have understood us. But the fact that we gave a shit and cared, it was really strange.
VB: So, do you still play?
JA: It is the same team, but it’s been a number of years, so it’s about half the people that were on the original team and some new people we could tolerate from other teams. People wanted to join our team because we weren’t jock dicks. We have fun. We haven’t won a single game this year, but we still go out there and have fun and make fun of each other. The other teams, they give up one run and they’re destroying their dugout. We play against a lot of cops.
Both: (laugh)
VB: That’s got to be funny, too.
JA: It’s weird. They’re always just the enemy.
VB: I don’t remember reading actual years in the book, but how long ago did it take place? You got the award for the article in 2000.
JA: I’d say that season was \'98 to \'99. It was a while ago.
VB: So, you need to write a sequel and catch me up.
JA: Well, at the end, what I put about what everyone is doing is actually what they’re doing now. And I see them still. Even the guys that aren’t on the team anymore.
VB: Have you heard from any of them about the book?
JA: That’s just starting now. Generally, they really love it. You know, I hadn’t seen Dino in a while. And when he told me about that whole sock sniffing/jacking off thing, he was getting progressively drunker. So, yesterday, he read it while we were having dinner, and he loved it. He told me he actually got caught doing that again by another girlfriend.
Both: (laugh)
VB: Dino and Musashi seemed like the Kramers to your Seinfeld clan.
JA: Yeah, definitely. Musashi is actually into full-contact karate now, so he sort of acts in these half-Japanese, half-English Shakespearean plays. He’s also a waiter at a restaurant on the Sunset Strip where they serve all these famous people.
VB: Wow. See, you pretty much immortalized everyone in the book. I can’t imagine anyone would have a problem with what you wrote.
JA: Right. I guess in the end what I told myself is, these are all people I love and care about in a really sincere way. In the end, no matter what I put in there, I hoped that would come across. And I would try and out myself and put stuff in about me to even it up.
VB: What made you decide to write a story about this chapter in your life, as opposed to some of the other things you’ve done? Because you’ve done some pretty interesting things.
JA: It’s all just a fluke. What happened was, nothing was going on in my life, and a friend of mine said, \"They’re doing the \'Best Of\' edition of L.A. Weekly. Why don’t you send in something?\" This would typically be \"The Best Chicken Restaurant\" or something. But for some reason, I decided to scribble down a paragraph about me and my baseball team, and I sent it in. The person who was editing that issue emailed me back and said, \"Well, this isn’t the best of anything, but I’m forwarding this to our features department.\" I thought I’d never hear back from them. Whatever. They literally called me up and asked if I’d write it up into a cover story. So I did, and it got optioned by Paramount and I won an award. Ever since then, I’ve had this career as a legitimate journalist.
Both: (laugh)
VB: Now are you going to have a career as a legitimate novelist?
JA: Well-- hmmm... I don’t know. Maybe.
VB: You said you got some great industry reviews and were optioned by Paramount. Have there been other things going on?
JA: Yeah. Since then, the Paramount option expired. The book is now optioned by the people who did Being John Malkovich, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind--
VB: What are they called? Propaganda Films?
JA: They used to be Propaganda. Now they’re Anonymous Films. It’s the same people. There’s also a friend of mine who’s a really successful screenwriter. He wrote a screenplay for a movie called The Machinist, and actually made a lot of money on The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Amityville Horror remakes. I don’t think he thinks they’re great pieces of art, but he got a house.
Both: (laugh)
JA: But he’s writing the screenplay for my book. And that’s great because he’s a guy I grew up with in the punk scene, and he’s battled with drugs and various sordid sexual addictions, so he’s perfect with it. Paramount would have made it a movie starring Tom Arnold with no drugs.
VB: Well, if it had Tom Arnold in it there would be drugs.
JA: Right. Just not on screen. Paramount had a good writer on it. It was some guy from Six Feet Under. But he just didn’t get it. He didn’t know the difference between Black Flag or Mötley Crüe, really. We were all riding around on choppers, smoking joints or something like that.
Both: (laugh)
VB: Was there ever any consideration of you doing the screen treatment?
JA: You know, people had suggested that, but I just wanted it to get done. And in Hollywood, if you have someone that’s already successful doing it, just let them do it. I’m fine with that. Because it’s so structurally oriented, it becomes a math equation to me. I’d rather it just get made. Not just strictly for financial reasons, but it would be cool to my friends.
VB: Oh, yeah. Imagine how cool it would be to see yourself on screen.
JA: Heck yeah. But I guess your first question was about doing another book. I turned in a book, and I believe there’s an audience for it. Now I believe that. The initial industry reviews, which are usually pretty tough because they’re intellectually vindictive, were actually pretty good. So I did my part, and now it’s up to people to find out about it.
VB: Well, the weird thing about it, and it’s a good weird thing, is that sports fans can appreciate it, and people who don’t like sports at all can appreciate it. I walked away from it having more of an appreciation for baseball. I wonder if people who walk away from it already liking sports will appreciate--
JA: Cross-dressing?
VB: (laughs) Yeah! That, to me, is so great. You’re mixing two counter-cultures that have clashed since high school!
JA: I was thinking about that. When I was growing up, the guys in the neighborhood who were older than me liked sports, but they also liked good music. They would listen to David Bowie and Lou Reed, but also get drunk and watch the [Los Angeles] Lakers. So I always knew those two things could coexist. But when I got older and went to high school we, as punks, were always getting into fights with the jocks. But you know, I think most of the people who will get this book aren’t your typical sports fans. But I can see the machine that is Simon & Schuster seeing a baseball glove on the cover and funneling copies of this out to every butthead sports site.
VB: But you know what? I think there’s a lot of actual appeal in this book to those people. Like my dad. He likes baseball. I’m not sure how crazy he’ll be about the cross-dressing, but he’ll still get the story. People will love the sheer fact that you went out and made this team and played hard! You have a universal appeal with it.
JA: I hope so. I definitely get what you’re saying. And no one ever thinks they’re the butthead jock. Everyone identifies with the underdog. And there are actually people who like sports and are literate.
Both: (laugh)
JA: I mean, your dad-- my dad’s the same way. He’s extremely educated, loves sports, reads a lot... I don’t know how much he knows about cross-dressing.
Both: (laugh)
VB: Do you feel like your life is better now?
JA: Oh, yeah. Well, it’s strange in that it’s not a particularly sexy thing to say, but as I get older I get happier. I was not a happy young person. I was a clinically-depressed child, became an out-of-control teenager, and settled into a morose early adulthood. But I’m really happy now. My life is pretty good. The baseball team helped me grow up in a way, and I feel like an adult now. Whereas before I felt like an aging teenager.
VB: Man, you’d make the best guidance counselor.
Both: (laugh)
VB: Or even if you could just give lectures about your life and what you’ve learned.
JA: You know, I had this experience when I went through this recovery home. I thought I was really old back then, but I was probably actually only 21. I had legal problems and health problems. But this place helped us and cleaned us up, and then they took us around to high schools like we were sacrificial lambs. We were supposed to be like, \"If you smoke weed, this will happen to you.\" It was me and a couple of 40-year-old convicts.
Both: (laugh)
JA: I don’t know if the kids listened or not, but that was my only experience doing something like that. I would think a book would be more entertaining than a lecture, though. I know the singer from The Adolescents is a teacher.
VB: You could do it, man.
JA: Well, it is sort of a cautionary tale. I just hope people survive that stuff if they go through it.
VB: Have you thought about becoming commissioner of Major League Baseball?
Both: (laugh)
JA: You know, I don’t think it’s going to get better. I’m a real cynic about that. I just think it’s money.
VB: I think that’s what was good about how you guys would just go out there and play and have fun. That’s what I remembered liking about it when I was little, because that’s all you see when you’re little. You don’t see things like merchandising and corporate sponsorship.
JA: Right. As long as you don’t have those typical baseball parents who are out there screaming at you, it is sort of fun. Those are the things I remember. Baseball was sort of the last thing for most of us before things went haywire. It definitely was the last period of innocence and simplicity in my life. And the strange thing is, we got that back. That feeling was there when we started playing again.