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.