Yogi Berra‘s recent death has activated a recycling of malapropisms attributed to him despite his denial, “I never really said all those things that I said!” The obituaries praise his talents and achievements as a baseball player but no one has, as yet, suggested that he was also a great communicator, as indeed he was.

How so?

Whenever he shared an observation, everyone fully understood its intended meaning.

He never bellowed at an audience from behind a lectern, hoping that the volume of shrill sound would conceal the absence of insight.

He never reverted to the “fancy language” of which academics and dilettantes are so fond. Everyone recognized the words he used and appreciated the conversational tone with which he expressed them.

Finally, he never claimed to be an authority or expert but his knowledge about baseball and how to play it well was encyclopedic. His qualifications included election to the MLB Hall of Fame, three MVP awards, 18 All-Star game appearances, and 13 World Series championships.

Not all messages sent are received. The intended meaning of many (if not most) of those that are received is not clear to the recipient.

Not so with Lawrence Peter (“Yogi”) Berra (1925-2015).

By all means be amused by his idiosyncratic way of expressing himself but never for a moment doubt his greatness as a communicator.