Yogi Berra died at 90 and took with him a legacy inimitable in every way imaginable. Because nobody knew how to mangle the English language as gloriously – and prophetically – as Lawrence Peter Berra. Born to immigrants in St. Louis, storming the beach at Normandy, shot later in World War II, behind the plate for the New York Yankees, in the dugout for them and the New York Mets, kibitzing around New Jersey with his beloved wife, Carmen, Yogi Berra bebopped from place to place, moment to moment, his presence a vortex.