The world of baseball and Yogi-ism lovers just lost a great one.  Yogi Berra died today.  He was 90 years old.

This photograph was taken in the late 1980’s, when Yogi visited KPRC-TV in Houston, after he joined the Houston Astros as their bench coach.  When his on-air interview was finished and he was headed for the door, I approached Yogi, told him that my mother was a lifelong fan of the Yankees, and asked if he would mind posing for a picture with me so I could send her a copy.  He was happy to make my mom happy.

I think the picture ended up on one of my mother’s living room end tables.  She loved her Yankees, even when they were out of uniform, dressed in a sport coat and tie, and standing next to her grinning kid.  In 1961, she loved the boys in pinstripes even when she, a teetotaler, had one of their inebriated fans spill a beer down the back of her blouse during a Yankees-White Sox game in Yankee Stadium.  I’ve still got the 1961 New York Yankees World Series pennant that my mom bought in 1962, during our visit to one of the ballparks where the Yanks were battling it out once again for the AL East title.  And there’s Yogi, smile on his face, right between Cletis Boyer and Mickey Mantle.

When my mom passed away, I retrieved my gift to her, so I could brag about the day I met Yogi Berra.  Oh, and flash this picture with him smiling and me with my hand on his shoulder.

Wow, Yogi and I.