I grew up in a time
when there existed real heroes in the world—people you could
earnestly look up to—who were an inspiration.
The world has lost
such a hero today. News broke early this
morning that baseball Hall of Famer Yogi Berra passed away at the age of 90. I am deeply saddened. I loved Yogi.
Hell, everybody loved Yogi.
As a young girl, Saturday
afternoons were spent with my dad watching baseball legends like Joe DiMaggio,
Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Phil Rizzutto and Whitey Ford. Those games were called by LA Dodgers HOFer
Pee Wee Reese and St. Louis Browns’ HOFer Dizzy Dean.
No. 8 was behind the
plate in the 1956 World Series as Yankee pitcher Don Larsen pitched a perfect
game. Berra leaped into Larsen’s arms
after the final pitch—the
moment was captured on film for all time.
Berra was behind the
plate when the umpire called Jackie Robinson safe when he tried to steal home
in the 1955 World Series. Yogi knew he was out and
gave the ump an earful.
The 2015 regular
season for baseball is drawing to a sad close with Yogi’s passing. No.8 is
joining “The Boys of Summer” in heaven. Rest in peace Yogi. You were the greatest.
Yogi’s wife Carmen
once asked him, “Yogi, you are from St. Louis.
We live and New Jersey and you play ball in New York. If you go before I do, where would you like
me to have you buried?” Yogi answered, “Surprise
me.”
A comprehensive
obituary for Yogi can be found at The
New York Times.
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