Somewhere in New Jersey, Yogi Berra's granddaughter Lindsay was watching with him. She asked him "are you dead?" Yogi replied, "I don't think so."
The point being is that Yogi's stats and baseball career honors were equal to and, in some cases, greater than those of the four being honored. At that point, Lindsay decided it was time to give her grandpa his due. Along with director-writer Sean Mullen, she has done just that with this spectacular documentary "It Ain't Over."
It is all here in a linear fashion. You see Yogi the child, Yogi the husband, Yogi the player, and Yogi the manager. With a bevy of talking heads that include perhaps Vin Scully's last screen appearance, you come away with one overriding sensation.
Yogi Berra was quite the guy.
Indeed, Lindsay laments how, in later years, he was perceived more as a Yoo-Hoo swilling clown than the true hero he should have been. Was it because he wasn't classically handsome? Or thought of as a little stupid because of the many Yogi-isms he came up with? Whatever the reason, the filmmakers show us the real man. And, for all of us, that's more than enough.
It's all here. His playing career where he almost never struck out. His managing careers with the Yankees and Mets. His contention that Jackie Robinson didn't really steal home in the 1955 World Series. His years of silence with Yankee owner George Steinbrenner. Nothing is held back.
The story is crafted in such a way that I would up in tears for the last ten minutes. When was the last time a documentary did that? Almost never.
But there's never been anybody like Yogi Berra.
In theaters now, but likely will be streamed soon.
LEN'S RATING: Four stars.
Dinner last night: Salisbury steak.
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