Hall Of Famer And American Hero

Yogi Berra, who died Tuesday, was a great bridge from the era when baseball dominated the sports scene to today, where its appeal is more local than national. The New York Yankees were the monster franchise, loved by many and hated by more, and Berra was the axis of their greatness, winning 10 World Series titles during his 19-year career.

He was also among the last of a breed known almost solely by their nicknames. No one thought of Berra as Larry – he was born Lawrence Peter Berra. And almost no one has a nickname today. Guys named Kyle are called Kyle. Guys named Kris are called Kris. Guys named Clayton are called Clayton.

Berra came into baseball just after service in World War II and nicknames in the sport were common and colorful.

You can start with the Babe (Ruth), who hit 60 home runs in a season (151 games played), and Home Run (Baker), who earlier led the American League in HRs for four consecutive years, hitting a total of 42 in 595 games. You had Dizzy (Dean), Daffy (Dean) and Dazzy (Vance). Pepper (Martin) and Salty (Parker). There was no question which hand Lefty Gomez used to throw the ball. Red (Schoendienst and Ruffing) proceeded by many years Vida Blue (not a nickname). Whitey (Ford) pitched and Yogi caught.

You had a Chief (Bender) and a Super Chief (Allie Reynolds). Slats (Marion) and Pee Wee (Reese). Yogi and teammate Moose (Skowron) made an interesting pair.

Berra’s accomplishments in a life were numerous. He took part in the Normandy invasion while in the Navy and earned a Purple Heart. He was charitable, kind and a wonderful marketer of his many mangled phrases that harbored an inner rationale. He was probably the best defensive catcher in baseball history, always a clutch hitter and a great teammate.

He was Yogi. They don’t make them like that anymore, and they sure don’t name them that way either.
 
 
Post By: Larry Weisman, a longtime sportswriter for USA TODAY, blogs for Twistity.com. Follow him on Twitter @MrLarryWeisman