Yogi Berra

It's hard to imagine the world of baseball without Yogi Berra, who died yesterday at the age of 90. He was an integral part of the game for some 70 years, until age and infirmity slowed him down and he stopped making public appearances. He was a unique baseball figure because he had two distinct parts of his career--a great catcher, who holds the World Series record for hits (71), and then a cuddly grandfather type who pitched Yoo-Hoo and was famous for his malapropisms.

I'm old enough to remember Berra not as a player (though he did play while I was alive) but as a manager. He managed the '73 Mets to an improbable pennant, and the phrase "It's not over 'til it's over" was coined. He had managed the Yankees, but was fired after losing the World Series to the Cardinals in 1964. During the season, he was grumpy about a losing streak, and Phil Linz was playing a harmonica. Accounts differ, but some say Berra knocked it out of his mouth, which shows he wasn't just a teddy bear. The man was a competitor.

Berra, though not the greatest catcher of all time, statistically speaking, was a manager on the field for Casey Stengel's Yankee teams of the '50s. He was also a bad-ball hitter, but didn't strike out much. As a catcher he handled pitching staffs with great aplomb. There are two scenes of him as a player that stick out in my mind--his hugging Don Larsen after the perfect game in the '56 World Series (almost taking Larsen down) and his jumping to his feet, livid, after Jackie Robinson was called safe stealing home in the '55 Series (Berra, to his dying day, said he was out).

Berra had a long career as a coach and manager, but it was spoiled in 1985 when George Steinbrenner, then a man who couldn't keep a manager for long, fired him in the third week of the season and through an intermediary. Berra refused to set foot in Yankee Stadium for years, until Steinbrenner apologized to him (in person). That led to a Yogi Berra day in 1999, and Yankee pitcher David Cone threw a perfect game.

Berra is probably best known for his "Yogi-isms," those twisted statements that he may or may not have said. They are legion, and I can't list them all. But the best, and the ones that are most proven that he said are, "I'd like to thank everyone for making this day necessary." "When you come to the fork in the road, take it." "Baseball is ninety percent half mental." "No one goes to that restaurant, it's too crowded." "You can observe a lot by watching." "It's deja vu all over again."

One of my favorites I haven't seen in obituaries, which makes me think he may not have said it. Supposedly he looked at a box score and saw that a hit he had made was listed as an error. Someone told him it was a typographical error. "Error? That was a clean single."

Berra, who was born Lawrence Peter Berra, got the nickname Yogi because he reminded a teammate of a yogi, whether it was from a movie or the way Berra sat cross-legged. When I was a kid, I assumed he got the nickname from Yogi Bear. Of course, it was the other way around.

So long, Yogi. You made watching baseball fun. Your like will never be seen again.