It Ain't Over Til It's Over

Like many people, I never met Yogi Berra.  But that doesn't matter.  Because like most, I felt like I "knew" him.  The baseball world has lost a true icon.  A quotable legend whose presence brightened up any room he was in.  A figure beloved by all generations, from those who remember him as a player in the 50s and 60s, to those who followed his managing exploits in the 70s, to those around my age and younger who only saw his as a sort of unofficial Yankees mascot.

Yogi Berra was the link between the eras.  His rookie year was 1946, when Joe DiMaggio was still the big man on campus.  His prime coincided with the rise of the dynasty in the 1950s, when Mickey Mantle became the team's larger-than-life figure.  Then in the 60s, he became the manager--and won the pennant in his first full season, 1964.  After winning another pennant across town as manager of the Mets, he was the straight man during the Billy Martin-Reggie Jackson circus that was the Bronx Zoo era of the 1970s.

Despite a career spent seemingly entirely in pinstripes, Yogi stayed away for 15 years due to a long-running feud between him and George Steinbrenner.  It started when Steinbrenner fired Yogi as manager 15 games into the 1984 season (despite promising he wouldn't) and didn't end until 1998, when Steinbrenner personally apologized to Yogi.  From then on, Yogi Berra was once again a constant at Yankee Stadium, and we were all the better for it.

The timing of his return to the Yankees couldn't have been more perfect.  Up until that time, it was always Joe DiMaggio who threw out the first pitch on Opening Day and was introduced last on Old-Timer's Day.  Whenever DiMaggio was at the ballpark, you knew it was a big event.  Joe DiMaggio died in January of 1999.  Who threw out the first pitch on Opening Day that year?  Yogi Berra.  All had been forgiven.  Yogi was back where he belonged.  For the next 15 years, he'd be that guy.  He took over that role from DiMaggio, and was the perfect man to do it.  Despite the fact that Yogi was a little man, those are big shoes to fill.

And of course, Yogi had another something special up his sleeve.  On July 18, 1999, the Yankees welcomed him back by celebrating "Yogi Berra Day" at the old Stadium.  On that day, Don Larsen threw out the first pitch and Yogi caught it, recreating the scene of one of the iconic moments in all of baseball history--Larsen's perfect game in the 1956 World Series.  So what happened on "Yogi Berra Day?"  David Cone threw a perfect game against the Expos.  What else?

That was one of the many special memories Yogi Berra would provide after his return to the Yankees.  At the 2008 All-Star Game, Major League Baseball welcomed all living Hall of Famers onto the field for a pregame ceremony.  The catchers were introduced last.  And the last catcher announced was Yogi Berra.  Later that season, as baseball and the Yankees said goodbye to the old Stadium, Yogi wore his uniform one last time and stood at home plate waving to an adoring crowd.

What most people remember about that final game was Derek Jeter's speech at the end.  Evidently, that was Yogi's idea.  It was supposed to be him, but he convinced Jeter to do it instead.  Whether that story's true or not is irrelevant.  Because Jeter giving the speech was the right call, and he nailed it.  That final night at the House that Ruth Built couldn't have been more perfect.

After I went to see the Broadway play Bronx Bombers, where Yogi Berra is the main character, I argued that Yogi Berra was the only person they could make the main character and have the story make any semblance of sense.  The final scene of that play takes place in the Yankees clubhouse on that night.  It's just Yogi and Jeter.  It's perfect.  Because Yogi's relationship with Jeter was something special.

Everyone who knew Yogi Berra had their own humorous Yogi story, and a lot of them were shared yesterday.  Ron Guidry called in to YES during the Yankees-Blue Jays game last night and talked about all the times he picked Yogi up from the airport during Spring Training.  One time, Yogi was coming back from filming an AFLAC commercial and said to Guidry, "You know, that duck doesn't really talk."  Ken Singleton then shared his Yogi story.  So did Al Leiter.  In the studio, Jack Curry told a story about Yogi giving directions back from somewhere, which were the exact reverse of the way they had gone there.  When that was pointed out to Yogi, he replied, "I told you my way was faster."

It's probably that quote and the many others like it that made Yogi Berra so well known.  Some have said that he's the most quoted figure of the 20th Century that wasn't a U.S. president.  One of his most famous lines is, "I never said half the things I said."  Well, according to Mets announcer Gary Cohen, that might actually be true.  Yogi grew up on the same street in St. Louis as Joe Garagiola, who went on to a long broadcasting career.  It's possible that Garagiola might've embellished some of these stories a little bit (or made them up entirely), so Yogi might actually be credited with "saying" things that he never actually said.  To me, that doesn't matter.  They'll always be Yogisms.  (Between Yogi Berra and Casey Stengel, I don't know how anyone understood a single word that was said in the Yankees clubhouse during the 1950s.)

He became such a lovable figure later in life, that it's easy to forget Yogi Berra was a damn good ballplayer.  He won three MVPs and got MVP votes a whopping 15 years in a row, led the Yankees in RBIs eight consecutive years at a time when they had Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle, and made the All-Star team 18 times.  Then there are the World Series records that will never be touched: 75 games and 10 rings.

So much more than a Hall of Fame ballplayer, Yogi Berra is one of the most famous figures in all of American history.  He was beloved by all, and his absence will definitely be felt by anyone he ever came in contact with (and those he didn't).

His most famous quote has got to be, "It ain't over til it's over."  Well, I guess it's over.  Goodbye, Yogi.  You'll never be forgotten.