The first time I saw Yogi in person was my first ballgame. It was 1961. The Yanks vs. Tigers. We were perched in the mezzanine of Yankee Stadium in left field and Yogi was taking a rare day away from the plate and playing the outfield. The old stadium, before its renovation in the ’70’s, was a tight place where you sat right over the field and we could almost hear Yogi breathe. Over and over again, as he awaited the next pitch, he took his hat off, then replaced it, then got stock still anticipating the crack of the bat and the chance he’d need to make a play. He did make a few and his skills as an occasional outfield seem to be lost in time. Roger Maris hit two of his historic 61 homers that day, the Yanks won, but so did my dad, my brother and I as we watched Yogi Berra, just below us..now he’s looking down on us..probably wondering, “I like this place..it’s like heaven.” If I can find one here in Michigan, a Yoo-hoo will be tipped in his honor. As Yogi used to say in the commercials, “Me for Yoo-hoo…fudge bars too-hoo.” Boo hoo. RIP Yogi.