Yesterday took place the last Old Timers Day game to be held at the present Yankee Stadium. The front page of the Courant’s sports section (paper, not on-line edition) has a picture of an aged gnome identified as “Jogi Berra”. Jogi? Surely someone was asleep at the editor’s desk. I have decided to believe that this misspelling was occasioned by the fact that whoever made this mistake is too young to remember Yogi, or, or that matter, his namesake bear. How else explain this grievous error?
Were it any other Yankee I would let it go unnoticed, or even feel a bit of satisfaction. I am an inveterate Yankee hater, as are all us true Red Sox fans, but I think I speak for most of us when I say that even during the 50s, when the Yanks were at their peak and the Sox had reached their nadir, Yogi was always an exception. He transcended the despicable, abhorrent, abominable, contemptible, detestable, loathsome team of which he was a part. He further proved his worth by refusing to enter Yankee Stadium until the despicable etc. George Steinbrenner apologized to him for, essentially, being George Steinbrenner.
A great player, and a great guy, who deserved to play for Boston (well, he may not see it that way) and who surely deserves to have his name spelled correctly.
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