With no rhyme or reason, ruined the whole season. Completely irrational, wish he was in the National.
Well, Edgar Martinez knocked in the winning run and hit something like .521. Makes me want to scream and howl, the way he murdered Wickman and he killed McDowell. I cried in my beer, I reached for my hanky after seeing what he did to my Yankees. Of course, when he went to Cleveland to proffer the proof, he couldn’t have hit pavement if he fell off a roof. Just goes to show, he’s not so smart-inez, he’s just a flash in the pan, that Edgar Martinez.
When I was a kid sitting eating my Jell-o, there was a fellow called Martinez, first name Carmelo. And when I was older, sitting sipping the vino, I’d sit and watch a player by the name of Tino, who was no match for the wisdom of Denis, but would have nailed Tippy’s hanging curve all the way to Venice. But all four combined didn’t have the career-ies to match the stats of Edgar in that wild card series.
Go home, Edgar, go home. And don’t show your face again until you’re hitting .210.