CLINT’S TIPPING POINT

CLINT EASTWOOD and I have been friends since the Fifties, when we were both working for Universal.

One day, an executive called us in and released us from our contracts. The guy said that Clint’s Adam’s apple stuck out too far. ‘What about me?’ I said. ‘You can’t act,’ he said. As we walked out through the studio gate, I told Clint: ‘You’re in a lot of trouble.’ ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Because,’ I said, ‘I can learn to act...’

I won’t say Clint was shy, but in those days he only said about nine words a year. And he did have a bit of a temper.

Once, we were sitting at a bar when a woman came over and said something to him that he didn’t like. I turned just in time to see her pour a beer over his head.

He didn’t say anything. He just stood up, picked up a beer and poured it over her head. And then he picked up another one, and another and another.

He poured four or five beers over her, said: ‘I’ll see you later’ — and walked out.

Nobody said a word.