Rant #1,518: Yogi

 First, for those who celebrated, I hope your fast went well and that the new year brings everything to you that you desire.

Now, let me tell you about Yogi.

Yogi Berra passed away on Tuesday night. He was 90.

Probably the most beloved sports icon of the post-World War II era, Berra was the link in Yankees history between Babe Ruth and Derek Jeter.

He was a three-time MVP, 10-time World Series champion, and even as a manager, guided his teams to two World Series.

He was also a member of the greatest generation, a hero of World War II, and was probably more proud of that then anything else he did.

He was undoubtedly one of the most famous people in the world, and probably one of the few celebrities who continued to flourish after their main careers ended.

Yogi was Yogi and everyone, young and old alike, loved Yogi.

Maybe it was the funny name, which he may have gotten because he liked to sit cross-legged, and someone--and not, as urban legend had it, his long-time friend and fellow Hall of Famer Joe Garagiola--said he looked like an Indian yogi, so hence, the name.

He grew up in very humble circumstances with Garagiola--basically on the same block--in the Italian section of St. Louis.

Because of his look and build, teams passed up on signing him, and the Cardinals actually whiffed on Berra and took the more athletic looking Garagiola, and the Yankees took a chance on Berra, and the rest is history.

Being home yesterday, while I was fasting, I was feasting on stories about Berra. The YES Network ran an all-day marathon on Berra, including a three-hour tribute where accolades came from all quarters.

The stories were incredible--many I had not heard before--and the tears were prevalent.

Yankees broadcaster Michael Kay sobbed at least three times during the day, telling the most unheard story where Berra visited his good friend, Phil Rizzuto, during his buddies' last days, when he was in an assisted living facility. They would play cards--as they had for the past 50 or more years--and Berra would come there each and every day, giving Rizzuto encouragement to live on another day.

There was also the story about Berra's business acumen. The well-known story is that Berra was approached by a fledgling soft drink maker, desperate for publicity. They wanted him to appear in ads for the soft drink, which he agreed to do, but in lieu of a salary--which they would have had trouble paying him--he took a partial owner's stake in the company.

Yes, Berra did quite well with Yoo-Hoo.

Another, less known story, was about a real estate deal that he, Whitey Ford, Billy Martin and Mickey Mantle laid the ground for in the 1950s.

The four purchased an extremely large tract of land in central Florida, and decided that this would be their home when they retired.

They planned on building mansions on their respective properties, and would live out their lives there.

It didn't work out that way, as Ford, Martin and Mantle all sold their properties in the subsequent years.

However, Berra hung onto his property, and got a very generous payout when he finally sold in the late 1960s.

Yes, a very, very, very generous buyout, as the tracts of land the Yankee teammates had owned made up what we now refer to as Disneyworld in Orlando. Without Disney's purchase of Yogi's tract of land, there would have been no Disneyworld.

Anyway, my personal recollections of him are more as an a manager, a coach and an icon than anything else.

Being born in 1957 and getting into baseball in 1965, I really never saw Berra as a Yankee player. I have very dim memories of seeing him actually at bat as a Met in 1965. He had been fired from his manager's position with the Yankees during 1964's off season, as his Yankees team lost to the Cardinals in the World Series.

The Mets brought him aboard during the 1965 season as almost a slap in the face to the Yankees. He actually played in a couple of games--one of the few people, if not the only one, to actually participate in games as a player after having been a manager--and I think he managed to get one hit in a couple of at bats. I have a recollection of seeing him in a Mets game that was televised on TV, as a pinch hitter, and grounding out to third, but it is pretty hazy in my memory.

I remember him for all his Yogi-isms, like "It ain't over 'til it's over," and I remember him as a coach and manager for not only the Yankees and Mets, but also, for a brief time, with the Houston Astros.

And did anyone ever have a bad word to say about Yogi?

He removed himself from the Yankees situation for more than a decade after being fired as Yankees manager for a second time, and vowed never to return to Yankee Stadium unless George Steinbrenner sold the team.

He never did, of course, they mended their fences, and Berra became a regular at the Stadium. He also tutored younger players as a spring training instructor.

I gravitated toward Yogi at a young age because, well, wasn't Yogi Bear named after him? Also, once I found out that his real name was "Lawrence"--the same as mine--well, we Lawrences have to stick together.

And no, he was never called Larry. His original nickname was "Loddy," believe it or not.

So Yogi Berra has left us, and he left this planet a better place with his enormous presence. The Yankees will wear No. 8 on their sleeves the rest of the season, and various tributes are being planned by the team.

Goodbye, Yogi. From one Lawrence to another, you done good.