Eric Simonson’s created a niche market for himself: He writes plays about sports icons. “Lombardi” was about the inspirational Green Bay Packers coach, “Magic/Bird” about friendly NBA rivals Magic Johnson and Larry Bird.
Now comes “Bronx Bombers,” which, like the other shows, juxtaposes private life with athletic prowess to show how legends are made. Only this time, Simonson takes on a whole team.
At the heart of the play, set in June 1977, is Yogi Berra (Richard Topol). The malaprop-prone Yankees coach is first seen trying to broker a truce between fidgety manager Billy Martin (Keith Nobbs) and cocky right fielder Reggie Jackson (François Battiste) after they get into a dugout fight.
The actors dig into the larger-than-life personalities and conflicts with gusto, especially Battiste, who struts around in a period afro and full polyester regalia.
As staged in the round at the small Duke theater, the effect is intimate and immediate.
But the focus evaporates in the second act, dominated by a dream sequence in which Berra and his wife, Carmen (Wendy Makkena), host a dinner party with Yankees past and future — from the saint-like Lou Gehrig (John Wernke) to the saint-like Derek Jeter (Christopher Jackson).
Joe DiMaggio (Chris Henry Coffey) is portrayed as coldly aloof, while C.J. Wilson’s boisterous Babe Ruth turns up in a fur coat over his uniform. “You must be with the Black Yankees?” the Babe asks Jeter.
Simonson, who also directed, piles on the anecdotes and relies more than before on the audience’s familiarity with the game. This is an inside-baseball baseball play, and anyone who didn’t follow that big fallout in the dugout will miss out on some of the first act’s fun.
But then, the show is for fans, and its tone never wavers from awe-struck and reverential — kinda like Yogi when all the pinstripe legends drop by his living room to feast on the hors d’oeuvres his wife made, inspired by the Stork Club.
Controversy? Fuhgeddaboutit — there’s no negativity here. An epilogue set after the last game at the old ballpark might as well take place in heaven. The closest we get to juicing is when Jackson orders OJ from room service.
All told, you’d never guess the Yankees’ other nickname is the Evil Empire. That could change, though, if the play ever runs in Boston.