Yogi Yeager
AKA: Yogi "bonehead"

Football Happenings Record

Nauseating Babble from the Commish:

Yogi owned CDs before he owned a CD player. He spent an entire weekend building a massive jungle gym for Beer, his pet parakeet, who is still at large. Yogi, (although silly) is NOT nicknamed after Yogi Bear - but after Yogi Berra. Even with a long historical tie to the Mets, Yogi could care less about them. Who can blame him.

Here's how Yogi chooses to describe himself:

 I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice.
 I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention.
 I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees.
 I write award-winning operas.
 I manage time efficiently.
 Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.
 I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing.
 I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes.
 I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.
 Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants.
 I play ruthless booray; I was scouted by the Lakers.
 I am the subject of numerous documentaries.
 When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard.
 I enjoy urban hang gliding.
 On Wednesdays, after work, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
 I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie.
 Critic's worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear.
 I don't perspire.
 I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail.
 I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes.
 Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal force demonstration.
 I bat .400.
 My deft floral arrangements have carried me fame in international botany circles.
 Children trust me.
 A father of two, lover of one, and inspirer of many.
 I can hurl golf clubs at small moving objects with deadly accuracy.
 I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and Green Eggs and Ham in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening.
 I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket.
 I have performed covert operations for the CIA.
 I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair.
 While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery.
 The laws of physics do not apply to me.
 I am a founding member of the Ikky Twerp fan club.
 I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid.
 On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact twister.
 Years ago I discovered the meaning of life, but forgot to write it down.
 I have made extraordinary four-course meals using only a pocket knife and a toaster oven.
 I breed prize winning clams.
 I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions at Possum Kingdom, and spelling bees at the Kremlin.
 I have played Hamlet.
 I have performed open-heart surgery.
 And I have spoken with Elvis recently.