The affectionate documentary "It Ain't Over" has a split personality.
Longtime baseball fans can revel in black-and-white archival footage showing Hall of Fame catcher Yogi Berra in his prime at bat and behind the plate in that era's baggy flannel uniforms. The universe of non-fans can savor Berra as a pop-culture legend, thanks mainly to his trove of purported Yogi-isms. Those much-quoted twists and turns spark chuckles while also shining at least a glint of wisdom.
The film's title is extracted from an epic Yogi-ism: "It ain't over till it's over." Scoreboard-size flash cards show other favorites: "It's deja vu all over again." "The restaurant is so crowded that nobody goes there anymore." "When you come to a fork in the road, take it." "Always go to other people's funerals, or they won't go to yours."
Some truth resides in a Berra disclaimer: "I never said most of the things I said." A good many seem to have been fashioned for him. The first Yogi-ism probably was hatched by boyhood pal and fellow catcher Joe Garagiola when Berra was honored by Cardinals fans in 1947: "I'd like to thank all of you for making this night necessary."
Writer and director Sean Mullin asserts that Berra never got the full respect he merited as the American League's three-time Most Valuable Player. At his peak in the 1950s, he recorded more home runs than strikeouts for a full decade -- an inconceivable feat today when Major-League batters strike out seven times as often as they hit a homer. In the film, he poses wearing the panoply of World Series rings earned as player and manager on the fingers of both hands.
After Berra retired as a player, sportswriters failed to vote him into the Hall of Fame in 1972, his first year of eligibility. His election came in 1973, but even then 15% of voting writers left him off their ballots.
Granddaughter Lindsay Berra, a principal narrator of "It Ain't Over," suggests that his non-athletic physique at 5-feet-7-inches tall may have dimmed respect for his skills. He was too often seen, she says, "as this funny little guy." When he joined the Yankees in 1946, Joe DiMaggio supposedly said, "He looks like a fireplug." In the movie, Billy Crystal borrows from "Don Quixote" in labeling him as "Sancho Panza in pinstripes."
Born Lawrence Peter Berra in a St. Louis Italian-American neighborhood called The Hill, he entered the Navy in 1943 and was slightly wounded while manning a landing-craft machine gun at Omaha Beach on D-Day. He did grisly duty the next couple of days retrieving bodies and body parts of slain fellow Americans from the water. Years later, in a comment definitely not a Yogi-ism, he said: "Baseball ain't hard. War is hard."
Berra's three sons appear in the movie with respectful memories of their father. One of them, Dale, was a Major-League infielder for nearly a decade in a career self-destroyed by cocaine use. He says that "tough love" from his father helped him finally escape the habit.
Absent from the film is a flabbergasting financial fact: Berra's total salary for 17 full seasons as a Yankee star totaled $702,000. This year's minimum pay for a Major-League rookie is $720,000. Even adjusting for inflation, the money gap is staggering -- thanks mainly to the later growth of a strong players' union. In his first years with the Yankees, Berra made ends meet by working off-season in a Sears Roebuck hardware department and as a restaurant head waiter.
The documentary's most endearing passages focus on the deeply felt love that infused the 65-year marriage of Berra and wife Carmine. Excerpts from his love letters are quoted. She died at 85 in 2014. He died at 90 a year later.
Naturally, there's a Yogi-ism to sum up their enduring romance: "We have a good time together even when we're not together."
Jack Schnedler, retired Arkansas Democrat-Gazette deputy managing editor/Features, was 10 when he saw Yogi Berra play in 1953 as the Yankees trounced the Browns in St. Louis. Mickey Mantle hit a long home run. As a Chicago Daily News sportswriter in 1971, Schnedler interviewed Ted Williams and Dennis McLain, but not Yogi.
Larry Berra, Tim Berra, Dale Berra in IT AINT OVER. Photo credit: Daniel Vecchione. Courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.