As baseball fans will do - particularly those within the New York and Boston orbit - I was arguing with a friend of mine about who the bigger punk was: Roger Clemens or Pedro Martinez. As a lifelong Mets fan born on the February day in 1962 when pitchers and catchers first reported in orange and blue, I naturally went with Clemens. My friend, a true Yankee fan, gave the nod to Pedro. Easy choices, both - the pyschology of the team uniform triumphs again.
And now Pedro wears that blue and orange. And, it seems, I like the guy - seems I always have. (Well, I certainly enjoyed watching him plunk Yankees, even if he did crack Piazza's wrist four years ago). Today's Times gives me more reasons to admire Pedro, besides the movement on his pitches and his will to win on the mound. Juliet Macur portrays a Pedro Martinez who left his village in the Dominican Republic for major league millions - only to return and plow his money back into his hometown.
I'm a sucker for human interest stories, particularly those with any kind of depth of human emotion - explains my Dickens devotion - and this one smacked me in the gut as I rode Metro-North from Bronxville early this morning. If you love Pedro, read the piece; if you can't stand him, read it and you may change your mind. Writes Macur: "Though Martínez left Manoguayabo, he could have chosen to live anywhere, including one of the island's resort towns. But he stayed in his hometown and improved it." Martinez built a church, he arranged for the roads to be paved, he built dozens of small houses. He has plans for a high school, playing fields, a police station, a library and a health clinic.
What's most fascinating about the story, to me, is that contrary to what we've always read in the sports page - the self-obsession, the cry for respect from teams paying millions - Martinez actually seems to have a clear view of his place in life.
"The whole village was on my shoulders, and I knew that," Martínez said, lifting his arms to the sky. "So when I went on the mound, I felt like a lion fighting for my food because I wasn't fighting for myself. I was fighting for everyone in Manoguayabo."
This is not Roger Clemens of the gated communities and self-obsessed training regimen talking in stilted spoiled athletic cliches. This is a poet:
"Winning the World Series is low on the things that make me happy," Martínez said. "What I really enjoy is giving back to the people here and giving them hope. I want them to use me now while I have this fame."
He grows quiet and looks at the sky. "At my mom's house on the farm, it gets so dark, you look at the stars and you feel like you can just reach out and grab them," he said. "I love her so much and I love this place so much, it hurts. I stay here because I need to find myself again after playing in the States. Here, it's me talking. It's my soul talking."
So yeah, count me as a Pedro Martinez fan. I think this is a terrific move by the Mets, on the field and off the field. And I'll be looking for that No. 45 jersey under the tree.
