It Ain’t Over (10/10)
by Tony Medley
98 minutes.
NR.
There is one person who will always be on the
all-time baseball team, Babe Ruth. But there is another person who
should also be on it, Yogi Berra. Oh, sure, Bill Dickey had a higher
lifetime batting average, and some people think it’s Johnny Bench. But
for me, Berra should be No. 1 (in fact, on my list No. 2 isn’t Bench or
Dickey, it’s Roy Campanella, Yogi’s contemporary with the Dodgers and
also a 3-time MVP).
Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle got all the ink, but
Yogi was the glue, the mainstay, that connected the DiMaggio era with
the Mantle era. He was the three-time MVP (like Joe and Mickey); he was
the winner of 10 World Series Championships (like nobody else). But more
important, he was probably the greatest clutch hitter in World Series
history. He always seemed to get the key hit when they needed it. In
fact, probably nobody remembers this, but in the great catch that
started a double play made by Sandy Amoros in the seventh game of the
1955 Series that undooubtedly won the Series for the Dodgers, Yogi hit
the ball that on any other day with any other left fielder would most
likely been a double or triple driving in two runs and tying the game.
Instead, Gil McDougald was doubled up trying to get back to first base,
and the game ended with a 2-0 Dodgers win (this is not covered in the
film).
Written and directed by Sean Mullin, this is Yogi’s
tale, told by interviews with a myriad of players, managers,
broadcasters, celebrities, and writers, including his beautiful wife,
Carmen, Joe Garagiola, his life-long friend who lived across the street
when growing up, Bobby Richardson, Bobby Brown, Ralph Terry, Al Downing,
Billy Crystal, Joe Girardi, Bob Costas, Derek Jeter, Hal Steinbrenner,
Dale & Larry Berra, Joe Torre, Larry Doby, Jr., Roger Angell, Tony Kubek,
Vin Scully, Whitey Herzog, Willie Randolph, Ron Guidry, Lindsay Berra,
Don Mattingly and many more.
Of course, we hear a lot from Yogi, too, and a lot
of Yogi-isms, including some others wrote and attributed to him. But his
wife Carmen says that it’s easy to tell the fakes from the real ones
because the real ones actually make sense when you think about them.
It takes Yogi from growing up on The Hill in St.
Louis, to being wooed by Branch Rickey, who didn’t sign him when he was
with the St. Louis Cardinals but immediately tried to sign him when he
moved to the Dodgers, but by then he had already signed with the
Yankees, and his service in the Navy in WWII when he took part in the
Normandy Invasion on June 6, 1944.
It also gives the best, detailed analysis of Jackie
Robinson’s steal of home in the ’55 Series. Yogi insisted he was out
until the day he died. The film shows various angles. The truth is still
hard to determine but I think I changed my mind.
I was a lifelong Yankees fan (until the Dodgers
moved to Los Angeles), so I followed them closely. That might make me a
little prejudiced. But in addition to being a great player (many
commented that he certainly didn’t look like a baseball player), Yogi
was obviously a truly, really nice guy with a keen common-sense
intelligence, and this comes across clearly.
You don’t have to be a baseball fan to enjoy this
American success story.
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