Yogi! Yogi!

One out, men on First and Second, one out. He bounded to the plate as graceful as could be.

He got in the Batter's Box, and looked that the pitcher with that steely gaze.

The pithcer, undaunted, glared back, and threw the mighty fastball at the catcher. The batter leans his body back as the incoming ball screams past him. Ball one, inside. Smiling, he go back in the Box, waiting for the right pitch.

The pitcher, again, hurls one at the plate.

Looking, the batter is thinking, "Another inside pitch," when he hears the dreaded scream from the umpire, "STRIIIIIKE ONE!"

A little miffed at the call, he gets ready in the box again, waiting for the right pitch. On cue, it comes, a little low and outside, but it is a good pitch. Swinging hard, he misses badly.


"STRIIIIKE TWO!!" from the umpire.

Then he hears it. From the dugout, his teammates screaming at the top of their lungs, "YOGI! YOGI! YOGI!" The constant chant of his name. Over and over. Incessant, they cheer him on, knowing he can do it: drive in at least one of the runs on base they so desperately need to get back in this game. "YOGI! YOGI! YOGI!" They just won't stop.

More determined than ever, he gets back in the box, steely resolute in the fact that They need Him. His Teammates are depending on him. He. Cannot. Will. Not. Let. Them. Down.

The pitcher, smug about the situation, cannot wait to deliver the Death Knell to this brazen guy. He looks at the catcher: Fastball, down and inside is the signal. Okay... No Problem. He winds up, as he has thousands of times before, and throws.

A beautiful pitch, screaming down the pipe, 60 feet, six inches away....

He swings.

And connects! It flies right over the pitcher's head and into the shallow outfield behind Second. The runners haul, the man on second easily running home and the man on first sliding into third.

The crowd, in the meantime, goes wild! Screaming, the fans tell the players what to do: "Home! Run to Third! Stay at First!!!!"

His teammates are ecstatic; they scream and tell the runners where to go, but knowing the base coaches will do the job. They continue to chant, "YOGI! YOGI! YOGI!"

But a single is not goos enough for him; he doesn't even stop as he rounds first. He is running as fast as he can and makes a perfect slide into Second, ending the slide by standing up after the slide just like a pro..

Except he is not a pro. He is my 9 year-old son with the Minor Yankees, and his idol is Yogi Berra. He even wears the #8 jersey for his team, the same one Yogi Berra wore those many years ago. And at taht moment he is the happiest little boy on the planet. A one-run RBI that also moved a runner to Third.

Not bad. And the rest of the season to go...