To the things that Yogi did say, The Yogi Book does both service and justice. It gathers the witticisms in a single convenient volume, adds a scrapbook of photos, then lets their progenitor riff, filling in color commentary on what was happening beyond his mind and what was going through it when the famous phrases were dispatched into the public domain. He deservedly takes credit for such immortal pronunciamentos as "Nobody goes there anymore. It's too crowded." (page 16); "It's deja vu all over again." (page 30); "When you come to a fork in the road, take it." (page 48); "The future ain't what it used to be." (page 118); "It gets late early out there." (page 64); and "Ninety percent of this game is half mental." (page 69). All, like the sacred texts they happen to be, are appropriately parsed for your edification, as is the greatest Yogi-ism of them all: "It ain't over 'til it's over." (page 121).

Like its predecessor, The Yogi Book, Fork is essentially a collection of Yogi's well-traveled observations from out of left field, but it's much more than just déjà vu all over again. Instead of explaining, as he has before, what prompted a particular Yogi-ism or what he was really trying to say, Yogi does his best to go deep. The charm is that Yogi's so guileless, he makes it work--there's sagacity in his simplicity. Each Yogi-ism gets its own short chapter in which Yogi riffs off the phrase to dispense a bit of homespun wisdom and inspiration. "It gets late early out there"--we get old before we're ready, but here's how to cope with it. "If you can't imitate him, don't copy him"--we all need to be true to ourselves. With Yogi's latest career as a successful author, not only ain't it over for him, there's happily no end in sight. --Jeff Silverman

Berra, who grew up in St. Louis in an Italian section of town know as "The Hill," has always been a bit of comic relief in the baseball world. As a young Yankee, he notes, he was labeled "the Ape" by fellow players and coaches who were surprised that someone so short and stocky could hit so well. Indeed, Berra is the first to admit that, early in his career, he was a poor catcher and an easy mark for pranksters. But he would go on to win the American League MVP award three times, and his fourteen World Series records (detailed, along with his overall Series stats, in an appendix) belie the Neanderthal image portrayed in the press.

Yankees fans and serious baseball scholars may be frustrated by Berra's lack of interest in overturning the myths that surround him. Berra confesses that many of the malapropisms associated with him were actually fabricated by reporters, but he does not name names. And the Georges (Weiss and Steinbrenner)--who caused Berra so much grief during his career as a player and manager--are lightly forgiven. Despite the lack of major revelations Ten Rings offers a pleasant refresher course in, arguably, the greatest string of baseball seasons in history. --Patrick O'Kelley

Who is this guru lurking in the grand old game? Well, he's the winner of ten World Series rings, a member of both the Hall of Fame and the All-Century Team, and perhaps the most popular and beloved ballplayer of all time. And without effort or artifice he's waxed poetic on the mysteries of time ("It gets late awful early out there"), the meaning of community ("It's so crowded nobody goes there anymore"), and even the omnipresence of hope in the direst circumstances ("It ain't over 'til it's over").

It's Yogi Berra, of course, and in What Time Is It? You Mean Now?, Yogi expounds on the funny, warm, borderline inadvertent insights that are his trademark. Twenty-six chapters, one for each letter from A to Z, examine the words, the meaning, and the uplifting example of a kid from St. Louis who grew up to become the consummate Yankee and the ultimate Yogi.

Included in this treasury of inspired and inspiring Yogi-isms are such eloquent and thought-provoking pearls of wisdom as:

"I ain't in a slump. I'm just not hitting," encouraging us to stay positive even in the face of adversity.

"Why be jealous over things you don't have?" counseling us to take joy in all the good things in our lives -- without envying others.

"You can observe a lot by watching," reminding us to be open to the possibility of surprise and wonder in the world around us.

"It's like déjà-vu all over again," because, after all, you don't have to believe in reincarnation to know that history repeats itself.

Touching on all things great and not so great, Yogi imparts to us his one-of-a-kind wisdom and famously quirky humor, illuminating the subtle truths at work in our lives. Overflowing with improbable insight and enlightening advice, What Time Is It? You Mean Now? is the essential guide to the world according to Yogi.

What does it take to be a real team player, especially in a society that glorifies selfishness and a corporate culture that often uses "team player" as a buzzword but rewards only the showboaters and prima donnas? Well, You Can Observe a Lot by Watching. In this happy and hilarious guide to teamwork, sportsmanship, and winning, Yogi Berra draws on the timeless wisdom handed down by example from ballplayers who came before him to inspire you to make the right choices and become not only a better team player—at sports, at work, and in life—but a better person.

Filled with colorful stories from his life and career, not to mention the down-to-earth wit and insight that Yogi fans love, You Can Observe a Lot by Watching shows you how to make a bad team good and a good team great.