Garry Armstrong on September 23, 2015 at 4:34 pm said:
A sad, sad day. Lawrence Peter Berra was a baseball legend and an icon. Although he was a stalwart of the Yankees, dreaded enemy of my beloved Brooklyn Dodgers and Boston Red Sox, he was a kind and gentle man. I spent a few, memorable hours with Yogi during his tenure with the old, bumbling New York Mets. He was very kind and generous with me, then a young reporter.Yogi is again batting cleanup behind Mickey Mantle on that field of dreams.
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Categories: American history, Garry Armstrong, In Memorium
Well I’m no Yankees fan, but like most folks, I was sure a Yogi fan.
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He transcended his team. I think in the end he even transcended sports.
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Such a great personality and sports great. I am glad you got to meet him and that he lived up to the expectation of being one of the good guys.
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Garry liked him very much. He was in the middle of writing tomorrow’s post about Cooperstown when he learned that Yogi had died — one of the greats of the game.
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I heard about that. I knew of him, of course…
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He was as famous as baseball players get. And certainly the MOST quotable.
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Garry thinks he was the last of the living legends. There will never be another one.
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Loved this. He was one in a million.
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One of a kind, I think. There will never be another, not even close. He was special, even at a time when players were more unique than they are now. And a really nice guy.
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Baseball players as a whole were “special” back then. The time period had a lot to do with it. They were there to PLAY ball.
It will never be the same again. My dad was a huge baseball fan. Chicago Cubs.
As I child, I knew the stories of many of the players. They had awesome stories.
Dad got to see Yogi a couple of times. He always said he was a “real” person. You can tell how a person is when you watch them when fans approach. Yogi was “lovable”. “Real”.
Thanks for sharing. I hadn’t heard that Yogi had died. Sad.
He lived an awesome life.
Give Garry a hug.
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It was weird because Garry was writing his post about Cooperstown for tomorrow when I got the flash that Yogi Berra had died. Of course he was 90, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it was saddening. There are some great young players, but none of them have the kind of character Yogi and his generation had in abundance. They were real. They were themselves. The played baseball because they loved the game, even without $30 million contracts. Another one gone and not many remaining.
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I called my day right after I saw the post from you.
I will be calling him in a few days to wish him happy birthday.
But I had to talk to him.
We talked about Yogi and some of the others for over n hour. They were baseball.
My sister took him to a Chicago Cub game at Wrigley a few weeks ago. They went to a Cardinal game before that. Dad hadn’t been to a baseball game since he took us as a family when I was 10. To Wrigley Field.
He said he had fun and was glad he went but that the game jut wasn’t the same. The Feeling wasn’t the same.
We lived it back them.
We were proud of our teams and it’s players.
It is not the same anymore. Sad
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Sorry, I have a friend who spells his name Gerry. Give Garry a hug.
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Nobody gets his name right. They used to spell it wrong at Channel 7 after he’d been there for more than 20 years.
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Laughing.
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