It was the last Tuesday night at Yogi’s for Theresa, who is the longest continuously working bartender at our beloved dive. She was joined by Brie for this last Tuesday before the bar closes this coming Saturday, October 4, and the real estate cockroaches have it ripped down.

Theresa said she will be one of the all-star crew working the last night at Yogi’s. I asked her what she will be doing after that, and she said she planned to join the circus. I, for one, hope to see here again somewhere, sometime, even if it means watching her let a thousand clowns out of a car.

(Photo by Eddie Goldman.)

It was a surreal Monday night at Yogi’s. Mondays have been one of the liveliest nights at this bar over the years, and Monday, Sept. 29, was just that, with girls dancing on the bar, outlaw country music blaring from the jukebox, and the gorgeously frenetic bartender Patience looking as radiant as ever.

But this one was different, as it was the final Monday before Yogi’s closes for good on Saturday, October 4. For those who hadn’t heard or believed the news yet, there were signs posted outside and inside the bar:

There was a countdown clock facing the street:

Even the legendary sewer of a bathroom had graffiti with the news:

It will all be over Saturday. Hopefully, however, it will all resume Thursday, October 9, at The Duck and, we wish, at a new Yogi’s near the present one sometime in the future when the economy, finance, and the real estate markets, i.e., the “big money” which is closing down this Yogi’s, allow.

(All photos by Eddie Goldman, thank you.)

It is doubtful that Yogi Berra ever set foot in any of the incarnations of the bar which currently shares his nickname. It is even less likely that he will be there to help close it, as he did last week with Yankee Stadium. But if he wanted to, he would have his chance next week.

I just got off the phone with journalist and drinker Paul Katcher. He had sent me a text message shortly before 11 PM Thursday night, from Yogi’s, with the dreaded news: the last night for this bar will be Saturday, October 4.

He said he had spoken with bartenders Patience and Brie, and that they had been told earlier today that the closing of Yogi’s will be sooner than expected, on October 4. I may head down there myself a bit later to find out more, and, of course, have a few beers.

Clear your schedules, friends, because Saturday, October 4, will clearly mark the end of an era in our rapidly devolving New York.

So all these weatherpeople from the liberal/communist/capitalist/conservative media (just ignore whichever epithets you disagree with) are telling us that there is this big storm coming to these parts Saturday. Well, that didn’t stop a bunch of regulars, rednecks, yuppies, and hippies from descending on that den of debauchery Friday night, the one and only Yogi’s (so far).

Part of the reason, of course, was that on Friday nights, the superstar Patience keeps slinging the beers. If she weren’t such a sweetie, she could start bloody civil wars over her.

Also helping the clientele lose their senses was the lovely Danielle. Just a smile from her could get the Taliban to buy a beer for Toby Keith.

So you stayed home to watch 20-year-old Robin Byrd reruns, did you?

For you unfortunate few who failed to show this Friday, Patience works Friday nights at Yogi’s and Wednesday days at The Patriot Saloon, and Danielle works Wednesday nights at The Patriot Saloon, Monday days at Yogi’s, and scattered weekends where needed.

Of course, you did get a partial pass if you stayed home to watch boxing. There were three lives cards on Friday night, and HBO has a potentially great battle in Juan Diaz vs. Michael Katsidis Saturday night. Also, if you’re really Internet savvy, you could watch numerous other fights from around the world Saturday.

And don’t worry if you are more redneck than hippie, or vice versa. Gretchen Wilson’s new album, due out this fall, has a tune called “Hippies and Rednecks” that attempts to bridge the gap between these sometimes warring subcultures. No doubt this healing process includes a lot of beer.

PS – I know my pictures aren’t exactly the best. I just use my camera phone, which is all I have. I’m a journalist, not a photographer, so all you fellers who do have these 2009 model digital jobs are invited to put your beers down for a second and point, shoot, and e-mail.

This past Thursday night at Yogi’s did find an assortment of sweet young thangs there, although most of them looked like extras from “Sex And The City”, with their fancy handbags and shoes. But for the few hours I was there, none of them danced on the bar or even acted much rowdier than a bunch of yuppie-ettes at a sale at Bloomingdale’s. Even usually surefire anthems from Gretchen Wilson and Dolly Parton did not elevate any of these young ladies off the floor (although I was told that a few had danced on the bar before I had arrived).

The two lovely bartenders that night, newcomer Emma and regular Brie, of course, kept us wolves satisfied, of course.

But the most fun the menfolk seemed to have was when the finicky jukebox played “Dueling Banjos”, and we all started banging away on the bar.

Crowded as it was, the atmosphere was so slow that the white-haired, late-night regular Bobby (“Yeah, baby!”) actually made sense and got a few laughs when he suggested that something should be done for the “horny old men” amongst us.

Brie and Emma did what they could, of course within the confines of the law. Brie liked this photo I took of her, commenting, “My boobs look huge!”

Yes, even cameras in cell phones capture that image.

I don’t know if it is a summer thing, but dancing on the bar at Yogi’s has been a rarity in these hot months. Maybe the redneck women are on vacation, or broke, or can’t risk violating their parole.

In any case, one place the outlaw women seem to be is in the new video celebrating them, from country group Jackson Taylor. Here it is:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4GztTtd5Ts]

The votes are in, and Gretchen Wilson’s version of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” has won the online poll conducted by ESPN.com of nine artists’ renditions of it to mark the 100th anniversary of that song!

Here, again, is the winning video:
http://sports.espn.go.com/broadband/player.swf?mediaId=3456428

I have been looking to buy some decent green tea, and was advised to check out Trader Joe’s in Union Square. I finally made it there Sunday afternoon. I wish I had been told that this place is completely swamped with customers, elbow to elbow, aisle to aisle. Even so, I had already made the trek from my uptown world headquarters, and was planning to visit Doc Holliday’s afterwards anyway, so the half-hour wait on the checkout line only came out of my drinking time. The staff there, also, was beyond pleasant, helpful, and patient.

As we wrote about last week, a poll is being held on ESPN.com to mark the 100th anniversary of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”. Originally, videos of this hallowed song by nine contemporary artists were posted on that site, with voting open to the public.

Now that list has been pared down to just three, and, to the surprise of no one who has ever waded through the pools of water in Yogi’s men’s room, one of those versions is by our favorite redneck woman, Gretchen Wilson.

I already reviewed Gretchen’s video in the first post on this topic, but some comparison to the other finalists is helpful.

The remaining two videos are actually not bad.

One, by Ozomatli, gives the song a Latin flavor and has a tenor sax lead. But when they tell us to “root, root, root for the Dodgers,” they automatically lose.

The other finalist is by the Punch Brothers. Theirs is a sort of folk-bluegrass version with lots of strings in their band. While their advice is certainly less loathsome, to “root, root, root for the Cubbies,” who are currently atop the National League Central and have the best record in that league, it still falls short to the more energetic version by Gretchen.

Gretchen, a Cardinals’ fan raised near St. Louis in Illinois, does wear a Redbirds’ cap and shirt, but keeps the lyrics traditional, singing “root, root, root for the home team.” For whatever reason, budgetary or otherwise, her video has higher production values, and is based around Little Leaguers, and not just her band playing. The young pitcher at the start of the video has a Yankees’ cap on. The focus on the kids adds a more universal and cheerful tone to this one, which was my choice anyway even before seeing the other two finalists.

Voting is continuing now, with the winner to be announced July 13.

So vote, vote, vote for the redneck. And have some beer while you’re at it.