While watching the CBS Morning News a few days ago, I was saddened to learn that actor Bruno Kirby died this past Monday, a victim of leukemia complications. You might know him from his TV character roles, or from the films Godfather II and City Slickers, among others. His imdb.com listing shows 66 credits.
I knew Bruno briefly, casually, in the late 1970's, when I was in my late 20's and pursuing a writing career in Los Angeles. One weekend, while searching for a pickup softball game, I came upon a surprisingly congenial group of guys claiming to be "New York actors," who played regularly on a field at Fairfax High. My assumption was that these were "budding" actors, who were studying and trying to break into showbiz. I had no idea that Bruno had played a significant role in Godfather II several years earlier. Other members of this group have had various degrees of success over the years, and there are at least three whose faces you’d surely recognize, although perhaps not their names. In retrospect, it's clear that those four were more or less the leaders of the loose-knit band of ballplayers.
Far from being a stereotypical obnoxious New Yorker, Bruno was truly a nice guy, and the others were, too. Week after week, they allowed me to play softball with them when they had more than enough players to field two teams. Obviously they didn't have to do so; they simply could have said "sorry, we've already got twenty guys." Instead, they included every person in the batting order, while allowing the "extras" to play the field three or four innings. I suppose I should state that I was an all-around average ballplayer.
I guess that this is the only tie-in to this website: that there was no law or rule that forced the New Yorkers to let me play; however, without much discussion, they simply decided to exclude no one. It shows that people can, if left to their own devices, be civil and generous, sensible and reasonable – without outside prodding or interference by government or otherwise. This may have been a trivial circumstance, but almost two dozen young men were involved, and a game of softball with more than ten per side is quite annoying, yet through dozens of games I can't recall a single person ever complaining.
Eventually, the New Yorkers left Fairfax High, and headed in the direction of the San Fernando Valley; I was told that the "core" players were going to start competing against the "Billy Crystal / Rob Reiner" team. I've always believed that if I had been a star player, I'd have been asked to come along. The potential benefit of those contacts to a would-be writer would have been immeasurable, but unfortunately I was not a top player and I was not going with them. Perhaps this also ties-in here, since naturally I didn't even think of crying foul, running to government or anyone else for help, or obtaining a court order or emergency injunction to force Bruno and his friends to take me with them. After all, such is merely the stuff of life.
Once I ran into Bruno off the softball field, when I recognized actress Annette O'Toole at an ice cream store in Westwood. She wasn't particularly pleased with my subtle questions and even more subtle advances, but suddenly Bruno appeared to rescue her. He knew who I was, of course, and even addressed me by name. I was almost twice his size, but he made it clear in a stern, yet friendly way, that I needed to take a hike. I wasn't offended, and we never discussed it later. I still have no idea if the couple was an “item” or just friends.
This past June I visited L.A. during a west coast vacation, and after 26 years went on a pilgrimage to the softball field where I played so long ago. It was practically the only thing that hadn't changed. Yes, it's a cliché, but it did seem that only yesterday I was playing ball on that field with Bruno and his buddies….
I didn’t know him well, but I suspect he was a good man throughout his 57 years of existence. I’m sure he’ll be missed.
August 18, 2006
Andrew S. Fischer has worked in various fields.
