Fun While It Lasted: My Rise and Fall In the Land of Fame and Fortune: Bruce Mcnall, Michael D’antonio
Editorial Reviews
Creativity is highly prized in the business world but once that creativity extends to bookkeeping, things can get a bit sticky. Bruce McNall’s creative career afforded him celebrity status, millions of dollars, an opulent lifestyle, and, in the end, a five-year prison term. His memoir, Fun While It Lasted, which shares the same breeziness hinted at in its title, is both entertaining and a bit depressing. McNall parlayed a boyhood interest in rare coins into a profitable livelihood even before entering college. Within a few years, he was traveling the world, buying up coins from shady dealers and reselling them to Hollywood’s elite. McNall played fast and loose with his prices and accounting and profited handsomely off a market that he helped create. From coins, he branched out, trading in thoroughbred racehorses, and buying the L.A. Kings hockey team. Ultimately, the FBI caught up with him and McNall was jailed for fraud. In reflecting on his life and crimes, McNall heartily endorses the assessment made by a Los Angeles Daily News reporter: “In the end, Bruce McNall wanted too much to be liked.” And while that explanation is awfully sweet, if one judges by his choices and lifestyle it seems like his problem was plain old greed. Despite his financial success and stunning talent as a salesman, McNall always seemed to crave more money and power and was willing to break laws and lie to achieve them. Because it details a life more dramatic than most, and because its compelling central character ultimately gets his comeuppance, Fun While It Lasted, co-written by Pulitzer Prize-winner Michael D’Antonio, manages to be both a fun adventure and a cautionary moral tale. –John Moe
From Publishers Weekly
When McNall was a kid, his dad wasn’t emotionally available, and, as a result, McNall grew up with a need to be liked. An oversized need, actually, which is why, he says, he defrauded several financial institutions out of $236 million. As a teenager, McNall was fascinated by ancient coins and soon became one of the world’s leading collectors and dealers. Later, he got into horse racing, creating ownership syndicates that included the rich and famous. He bought a movie production company, a Canadian football team and the L.A. Kings hockey team. He brought Wayne Gretzky to the U.S. and, in 1992, was appointed chairman of the National Hockey League. Alas, ethics weren’t a part of McNall’s voyage to millionairedom. He abused his position to buy ancient coins well below the wholesale price, smuggled coins out of Tunis, paid under-the-table commissions and, before long, graduated to fraud. Taking payment for coins he had not purchased and using assets that didn’t exist to secure loans, McNall was essentially operating a loan pyramid. By the time the FBI came to call, his company had nine different sets of books. McNall got 70 months for his crimes and offers a detailed but unconvincing account of the rigors of minimum-security federal prison camps. In fact, McNall is unconvincing as anything other than a white-collar conman, and his story, while sufficiently dramatic, doesn’t provide enough backbone to give him credibility, never mind sympathy.
Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information, Inc.