What a Collection : Whether He’s Coming or Going, It’s Difficult to Keep Up With King Owner

First came the stamps, when he was 6.

Then the coins at 10.

Then the antiques and the movie business and the horses and the Kings and the Toronto Argonauts.

And Wayne Gretzky.

And Honus Wagner.

And the Rocket.

And the fabulous Baker boys.

And maybe the NBA next.

And who knows what else. Maybe he will simply buy the Stanley Cup.

Bruce McNall is a collector. He started with one of those stamp kits, the kind parents buy their youngsters.

From that modest beginning, McNall has built his collecting into a financial empire that includes:

--Numismatic Fine Arts International, one of the largest dealers of ancient coins and antiquities in the world.

--Superior Galleries, the largest numismatic auction firm in the United States with merchandise that includes stamps, sports cards and memorabilia, autographs, manuscripts and antiquities.

--Gladden Entertainment, producer of such movies as “War Games,” “The Fabulous Baker Boys” and “Mr. Mom.”

--The McNall Entertainment Corp., more than 200 thoroughbred horses, and, of course, both the NHL and Canadian Football League teams.

For McNall, much of the thrill is in the chase. From the day he took over the Kings, McNall dreamed of getting Gretzky, as illogical as that might have seemed to most everyone else who thought Gretzky would retire in Edmonton.

From the day he got into the CFL, McNall went after the best, pursuing Raghib (Rocket) Ismail, although most assumed the Notre Dame star was going to be the top choice in the NFL draft.

So it cost him as much as $20 million. McNall figures he will get it back in promotional value alone. Much as he is confident the value of the Honus Wagner baseball card for which he and Gretzky paid a record $451,000 will increase.

McNall’s grasp of numbers is impressive.

On the Kings’ recent trip to Las Vegas, a team employee was heading to the blackjack table.

“How much do you want to win?” McNall asked.

“How about $1,000,” the employee said.

“Give me your money,” McNall said.

Not 15 minutes later, he handed the employee a $1,000 chip.

McNall has to be in the middle of the action. He can’t merely buy things to admire them from afar. He needs to be there when his hockey or football teams play, his horses run or his galleries hold auctions.

The Times asked to tag along for a week with McNall to observe his frenetic life.

Fine, McNall said, but you had better wear track shoes. And don’t plan on sleeping a lot.

SUNDAY

Afternoon--McNall spends the day at his Malibu home. He plays with his kids--8-year-old Katherine and 6-year-old P.J.--tossing a football around and watching them swim.

Catching up on some paperwork, McNall has an NFL game on TV in the background. As much as he loves sports, he doesn’t have the patience to sit and watch.

McNall and his wife, Jane, guard the family’s few remaining vestiges of privacy.

“We try to bring the kids up as normal as possible,” Jane says. “We would like to raise them as if we were middle class. We want them to develop their own sense of who they are before they learn who their father is and what that can do for them. They never brag about who their father is to their friends.”

Nor are they overly exposed to their father’s glamorous businesses. They went to two or three King games last season.

6:45 p.m.--McNall arrives at the Beverly Hilton for a charity black-tie dinner sponsored by the Maple Center, a nonprofit organization serving Beverly Hills. With the Kings in attendance, various team items are to be auctioned off.

McNall moves easily through the crowd. Although he attends more of these in a year than most people do in a lifetime, McNall never shows outward signs of boredom. Fans wish his team well, or want to talk about memorabilia, or want autographs.

McNall wanders over to a table where the Honus Wagner card is on display, encased in glass.

“Hey, Bruce, what do you do with a card like that?” someone asks.

“Gave it to my kid,” he replies. “He uses it on the spokes of his bike.”

9:30--The auction has begun. Someone buys a seat in McNall’s private box at the Forum for a King game.

Next up is a signed Dave Taylor jersey, but it has to be from a game this season when Taylor scores the winning goal.

The winning bid is $1,050. Now all Taylor has to do is win a game.

McNall, seated with Taylor, Wayne Gretzky and Larry Robinson, leans over and asks with a smile, “Do you know what would be even rarer?”

He answers his own question for all to hear, “A game-winning goal by Gretzky. “

Even Gretzky laughs. The superstar is off to his worst start, not a single goal in his first five games.

Gretzky bids on the next item, a kids’ party at a local fire station. He wins with a $1,000 bid.

“Great,” mutters McNall in mock disgust. “Another raise.”

As the auction drones on, McNall checks his watch. Time to move to the next activity, an interview on a Sunday night sports show to promote McNall’s sports-memorabilia show the next day.

10:30--McNall’s limo heads for the TV station. On the way, McNall is briefed on the items he will show on the program--Mickey Mantle’s 1956 World Series ring, estimated value $250,000; Joe Louis’ heavyweight championship belt, estimated value $200,000; and a baseball signed by Babe Ruth in 1947, the year before his death, estimated value $35,000.

While waiting to go on the air, McNall shows off his items. As air time approaches, McNall fumbles around for the ring.

“You know,” he says, shaking his head, “I think I left it on that stool.”

It’s a $250,000 item, but McNall acts as if he has misplaced a soft drink.

The ring is right where he left it, on a stool at the other end of the studio.

Midnight--Through a thickening fog, McNall’s limo heads for Malibu and home.

MONDAY

9 a.m.--McNall looks fresh and excited as he greets people in the plush ballroom he has rented in a Century City hotel for his sports-memorabilia show. He has had about five hours’ sleep but that’s average for him.

And here, McNall is in his element. In hockey, horse racing and football, he can be an involved spectator, but never more. He has his opinions, but usually defers to employees whose knowledge he respects. But among collectors, he has no peers.

“Business is like a game to him,” says Suzan Waks, his chief financial officer. “In this kind of atmosphere, he’s the player.”

One of those running the auction is Chris Davis, 27, who began five years ago as McNall’s driver and has risen to a good position with Superior Galleries.

“He’s everything he seems to be,” Davis says.

If McNall has a dark side, he has done a masterful job of keeping it hidden.

“I’ve never seen him lose his temper,” Davis says. “I also haven’t seen him sleep much. I don’t know where he gets his energy, but if you could bottle it. . . . “

Noon--Item after item is auctioned. The Louis belt nets $110,000. Lou Gehrig’s trophy as 1934’s most valuable player brings $93,000. Mantle’s 1952 rookie card goes for $33,000.

McNall doesn’t own any of these items. He merely provides the forum for the auction and builds the audience through publicity. For these services, he is well paid. The selling prices include a buyer’s fee of 10% that goes to McNall. He also collects 10% from the sellers.

Among the items for sale is Gordie Howe’s Detroit Red Wing sweater from the 1947-48 season, the first in which he wore his trademark No. 9.

McNall tells a reporter that Gretzky wants it.

“It should go for $25,000,” McNall says.

When it comes on the block, McNall gets involved in the bidding. He also gets the sweater . . . for $25,000.

1 p.m.--Another collector approaches McNall.

“See this?” he says to McNall, pulling out a Canadian $5 bill, encased for protection. “It’s from 1925 and it’s got serial number 99. Do you know what it would be worth if both you and Wayne signed it? And I’m willing to sell it to you.”

McNall looks at the bill, then asks, “How much?”

The collector smiles and says, “$10,000.”

McNall’s eyes widen. “$10,000?” he repeats.

The collector says, “I’ll toss in this Elvis Presley autograph I got from him on a plane in 1965.”

Replies McNall, “For $10,000, I can resurrect Elvis.”

No sale.

As the afternoon wears on, McNall is everywhere, inspecting the merchandise, talking to people in the crowd and helping man the phones, over which come additional bids from those unable to attend.

TUESDAY

9:30 a.m.--Another day, another auction.

This time, it’s at McNall’s Superior Galleries, where he gained prominence.

These items are of a historical nature, everything from a lock of George Armstrong Custer’s hair to letters written by Albert Einstein, Marilyn Monroe, W.C. Fields, former Presidents.

The top items sold are a copy of the Declaration of Independence for $91,000, a letter from George Washington for $62,500, an Abraham Lincoln letter for $54,000 and a set of signed presidential checks for $40,000.

Noon--As the auction goes on, McNall reminisces.

“When I was a kid, I’d mow lawns, pull weeds, do anything I could to get money so I could work on my coin collection,” he says.

“I would go around to banks and get rolls of pennies and nickels, looking for (collectible) coins. Once I realized somebody else had already done that, I went to stores and started to bug them.”

When his family moved to Arcadia, McNall got a job in a coin shop. He was 14. And there he found the ultimate thrill in his hobby--ancient coins.

“I got a real rush out of finding something that most people didn’t know about,” he says. “I felt a real excitement. I couldn’t believe this stuff was 2,000 years old.”

McNall began getting rich trading for coins whose real value others didn’t realize. He got his own counter in the store for his ancient merchandise. By the time he was 16, he had done well enough to buy out the owners and hire his own people.

He went to UCLA, fully intending to become a professor of Roman history, but it soon dawned on him that he could make a living in coins.

When he tried to get a job at Superior, as a teen-ager, he was turned down. His hair was too long.

But he finally was hired.

“I was buying $10-coins for $2 and ripping them off,” McNall says. “They finally said it was cheaper to hire me.”

WEDNESDAY

Noon--The first major appointment of the day is for lunch with Mayor Tom Bradley in Century City. Bradley requested the meeting and McNall has no idea what the mayor wants to talk about.

Even after the meeting, McNall is little perplexed.

“There wasn’t really any big reason for the lunch,” he says. “We just talked and got to know each other.”

2:30 p.m.--McNall gets a call in his Century City office from Gretzky.

McNall: “How’s it going?”

Gretzky: “Not too good.”

McNall: “What’s wrong.”

Silence.

McNall: “Wayne . . . “

Gretzky’s voice is breaking up.

“Just a minute,” he says and hands the phone to his wife, Janet.

She tells McNall that Gretzky’s 53-year-old father, Walter, has suffered an aneurysm in the brain. Gretzky’s only thought is to join his father in Hamilton, Canada.

McNall grimaces. His personal pilot is on vacation. McNall promises to get back to Gretzky and begins a hurried search for a private jet.

5 p.m.--McNall has been successful. Gretzky and his family are on their way to Canada.

10:30 p.m.--The Kings have beaten the San Jose Sharks, 8-5, but there isn’t much joy in the dressing room. Giving up five goals to an expansion team is no cause for celebration.

And concern for Gretzky’s father has cast a pall over the team.

The usual big-name entourage is not with McNall as he enters the dressing room.

A reporter asks McNall if the aneurysm is perhaps a blessing in disguise, since it will allow Gretzky to at least rest his aching back.

McNall is uncharacteristically sharp.

“Now that’s a stupid question,” he says.

Later, McNall asks another reporter, “What else could I have said?”

THURSDAY

11 a.m.--McNall is fighting a bad cold but at 41, he maintains his pace through most any illness.

One day, he woke up with flu, but insisted on keeping a business appointment in Palm Springs. He returned to his office in the afternoon, then reluctantly left early when his symptoms got worse.

He was supposed to attend a party that evening for a business associate. Everyone around him told him to stay in bed.

McNall showed up at the party.

Vacations?

Scott Carmichael, McNall’s publicist, laughed when asked about the last one.

“I think it was about two years ago, when he and Jane and Wayne and Janet went to Hawaii,” Carmichael said. “There’s just no way Bruce McNall will ever be caught sitting around a pool. That’s just not him.”

Suzan Waks spends three to four hours on Saturdays and Sundays--theoretically her two days off--on the phone with McNall, who simply wants to talk business.

“This job goes 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year,” Waks says. “Work is his whole life. He thrives on movement. That’s why he is so successful. And that’s the way I like it. All the people who support Bruce do that because that’s what he does. He’s definitely a workaholic, but it’s exciting.”

And sometimes nerve-racking.

On a trip to Toronto, McNall called his office from his hotel room. Nothing important. Simply wanted to see what was going on. In his limo 10 minutes later, McNall had an assistant call again.

6 p.m.--McNall is on his way to Laguna to conduct a how-to-get-rich clinic for those willing to spend $48 to learn McNall’s investment “secrets.” The evening at the Ritz-Carlton is entitled, “How to Turn Your Passions into Profits.”

FRIDAY

7:30 p.m.--McNall has his second seminar in as many nights, this one at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel.

McNall begins with a film clip supposedly taken from a recent interview. He is asked about rumors that he’s interested in obtaining Eric Lindros, hockey’s hottest young prospect and the kid labeled as the sports’ next Gretzky.

The price? Gretzky himself.

McNall says the rumors are true , that Gretzky is in the twilight of his career, that he’s tired of Gretzky’s “attitude” and that he’s about to complete a Gretzky-for-Lindros deal.

The clip ends and McNall emerges from behind a curtain holding a King sweater with the number 88 and the name Lindros on the back.

McNall, looking confused, asks Carmichael, “Isn’t this the Lindros press conference?”

Told it isn’t, he quickly stuffs the sweater behind the lectern.

It’s the opening act, but it doesn’t go over as well as it had the previous night. That crowd was more interested in the glamour aspects of his empire, but these people are here to talk investments.

That’s fine with McNall, who is always looking for new investors. They keep on coming, even though a recent story in Forbes magazine listed the Hunt brothers and David Geffen, a successful figure in the music industry, as a few of those who have lost big money dealing with McNall in the coin business.

When he’s talking about the sports end of his business, McNall uses snappy lines.

“People ask me how I could sell a horse right after it won a big race. I tell them, you want a pet? Buy a dog. This is a business.”

But when the subject turns to coins, McNall turns passionate, sounding a lot like the history professor he once wanted to be.

“This is what Julius Caesar really looked like,” he says. “This is not Rex Harrison. This is the real guy. That has always fascinated me.”

As has collecting.

“All animals eat, sleep, have sex and seek shelter,” he says. “But it’s the outside things, the ability we have to appreciate things, the things we do to stimulate our minds that differentiate us from the apes.”

SATURDAY

4:30 p.m.--McNall gets to the Forum early for the game against the Minnesota North Stars. He checks on the seating arrangement in his private box, where he and Laker owner Jerry Buss split 60 seats.

Then he checks on the seating in the Forum Club for dinner.

“A lot of people want to sit near me so we try to work it out so a lot of people are close,” he says.

McNall meets with General Manager Rogie Vachon and Coach Tom Webster. Gretzky won’t be back and there are injuries among the defensemen. There will be a lot of changes in the lines and McNall wants to know about them.

He also meets with team Vice President Roy Mlakar to discuss the marketing of a new concept in advertising that can be used in arenas all over the league. They also talk about marketing a set of cards to commemorate the Kings’ silver anniversary season.

6 p.m.--McNall and his wife sit down for dinner. Local politicians, movie producers, actors and business tycoons drift in.

Jane McNall, a teacher of Greek and Latin at USC, is talking about her husband’s drive to collect.

“He needs to master something,” she says. “When he first got into coins, he wanted to know everything there was to know about them. It was the excitement of learning.

“But he’s not a scholar. He doesn’t analyze things to death. Once he masters the material, he moves on to something else.”

But she objects to the idea that her husband’s obsession is merely to collect, that the chase is more important than the possession.

“He still owns every business he ever had,” she says.

And McNall is ever the businessman.

Talking with a reporter, he says the Kings are worth more than $100 million.

“What if you were offered some ridiculous figure for this team, your favorite possession?” he is asked. “What if you were offered $500 million?”

“I’d sell,” he replies, without hesitation.

10:30 p.m.--The mood is again light in the Kings’ dressing room. The team has survived all its injuries and won, 5-2. The entourage, which at times has included John Candy, Tom Hanks, Robert Wagner, Scott Bakula, Jim Belushi, John McEnroe and Craig Stadler, is back.

Ahead is a two-week trip east. McNall will go along and conduct business in New York. It looms as another typically busy week.

Any ideas of slowing his purchase pace in the future?

McNall shakes his head.

“What for?” he asks. “What are you going to do with your money? Enjoy it while you have it. I have yet to see a Brink’s truck following a hearse.”

A Week in the Life

A quick look at the schedule of King owner Bruce McNall’s activities during a recent week: SUNDAY: 7 p.m.--Runs a King charity auction at the Beverly Hilton. 11:30 p.m.--Appears on Jim Hill’s Sports Final on Channel 7 MONDAY: All Day--Runs a sports memorabilia auction in Century City. TUESDAY: All day--Runs a manuscript auction at Superior Galleries. WEDNESDAY: Noon--Lunch with Mayor Tom Bradley. Afternoon--Searches for plane to take Wayne Gretzky to Gretzky’s ailing father in Canada. Evening--Attends King game at the Forum. THURSDAY: Day--Works in his office in Century City. Evening--Conducts a seminar, “Turning Your Passions Into Profits,” at Laguna Niguel. FRIDAY: Day--Works in his office in Century City. Evening--Conducts “Turning Your Passions Into Profits,” at the Beverly Wilshire. SATURDAY: Evening--Attends King game at the Forum.