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Much to the chagrin of purists, Dennis "El Presidente" Martinez is back for yet another year of inflated E.R.A. Sure, he has the Atlanta Braves around to score so many runs that it doesn't matter how much he gets battered, but the fact remains: He's got no business pitching in the majors anymore.
Which reminds me of an amusing — yet true — anecdote. Back in '95, Martinez was hanging on for dear life with the Cleveland Indians. After a long tumultuous career, he finally had his last great shot at a World Series ring. It was playoff time, and he was at center stage.
I was living with three pals in a dorm-like situation at the time. We had a big-screen t.v. and all the beer we could drink. Bachelor heaven. So the token Southern California surfer-type roommate is hanging out, watching the Indians/Mariners series with us sports fans. Martinez is pitching wonderfully, when Surfer-guy asks "So why do they call him 'El Presidente'?" Of course, I'd never really thought about this before. That's just his nickname, right? Like Sinatra's "Chairman Of The Board," or Wayne Huizenga's "Slimy Corporate Bastard," or whatever. Being the flippant smart-ass that I'd come to be known as, I deftly riposte: "Cuz he used to be the President of Nicaragua, but he stepped down as leader to pursue his life-long dream of pitching in the major leagues... you know, just like Castro."
The expected titters and japery followed from the other roommates and assorted guests. But how was I to know this guy would take me seriously? He began questioning me with child-like wonder. "You mean he was president at age 22? Cool! What a story."
But it didn't stop there. You see, the Indians made it to the World Series that year; so every time he took the mound, we were bound to hear the refrain: "Wow. I can't believe he was actually the president of Nicaragua. I guess it just goes to show what can happen in this country. How cool!" And if one of his wave-crashed buddies was in the room, we'd all have to hear the story again, from his perspective. After a while, it got out of hand. I was hearing my own cruel, off-handed joke repeated almost daily. At one point I just wanted to hide every time Dennis was set to pitch. And every game that I didn't 'fess up just made the guilt worse. He really believed me. I never expected that.
This year Martinez came out of retirement, to take a final stab at the bigs. While watching the soporific Braves coverage on TBS, I was awakened from my Skip Caray-induced slumber by the following sentence (paraphrased for your protection): "Some people were sad to see Martinez come back to the majors... it's been stated that he's in line to run for president of his native Nicaragua. No doubt he'll likely win."
Yeah, it was amusing while it lasted; but it looks like Surfer-boy might get the last laugh. Viva El Presidente.
Kevin Chanel is the editor and publisher of Chinmusic!, a digest of baseball and Bigrockaction. He promises to seek professional help for his sarcasm problem. ("Oh, yeah. No question. A whole team of therapists. Definitely.")
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