The Seattle Times: Memories of Edgar

Edgar

Early years

Glory years

Monday, October 4, 2004

Most of Edgar Martinez's 1993 season was wiped out by injuries, starting with a severe hamstring pull in an exhibition game in Vancouver, B.C., and '94 was cut short by the players' strike. But starting in 1995, when Edgar became a full-time designated hitter, he put up some amazing numbers. Check out these averages, from 1995 through 2001: .356, .327, .330, .322, .337, .324, .306. He learned to hit for power, too. In that seven-year stretch, Edgar averaged

28 home runs and 110 RBI. And you might remember the double in Game 5 against the Yankees, and the grand slam and seven RBI the night before, to make sure there would be a Game 5. There were All-Star Games, four years in the playoffs, funny commercials, signs in the Kingdome and Safeco Field, chants of "Eddddd ... Grrrrr." Seattle had fallen in love with the Mariners, and Edgar was its favorite Mariner.

DEAN RUTZ / THE SEATTLE TIMES

As Mariners pile atop Ken Griffey Jr. at home plate, a scant few run out to greet Edgar Martinez — whose 11th-inning double put the M's in the AL Championship Series.

You might remember a double Edgar Martinez hit in the 1995 American League Division Series against the Yankees. Bottom of the 11th. Mariners trail by a run in Game 5. Edgar smokes one down the left-field line. Joey Cora scores, Ken Griffey.Jr. scores from first, dogpile at the plate, Mariners win, baseball is saved in Seattle.

Here's what a few who were there remember about what might be the biggest play in Seattle sports history:




"Because of Edgar, there's Safeco Field. If he doesn't get that double and the Mariners don't get into that American League Championship Series ... I just think that was the biggest hit in Mariners history. There may not be Safeco without it." DAVE NIEHAUS Mariners broadcaster "Dave Niehaus is saying on the radio, 'If Edgar could just pull the ball down the line here, Griffey could score from first.' Then he did. I looked at it, got up, and the first thing I did was see Griffey hitting second base right before the ball hit the wall. Then once the outfielder grabbed the ball, he (Griffey) was about two steps from third base. Then I said, 'He's in there.' The whole bullpen just ran to home plate." MATT SINATRO Mariners bullpen coach		ROD MAR / THE SEATTLE TIMES Edgar Martinez gets a champagne shower in the M's clubhouse after his double ousted the Yankees. I saw (Griffey's) head stick out of the pile with that great big smile. Let the celebration begin." JOHN MCLAREN Mariners coach "That's the biggest hit in Mariners history, in my mind." LOU PINIELLA Mariners manager

MARK HARRISON / THE SEATTLE TIMES, 1997

During the mid-1990s, the Mariners had one of the most feared lineups in baseball with (from left) Alex Rodriguez, Ken Griffey Jr., Edgar Martinez and Jay Buhner.

I'll remember Edgar as a guy who was as generous with his time around guys who covered the Mariners five games a year as those who did 155.

One day in 1990, he committed four errors playing third base against Baltimore. Four errors. A colleague asked me why I didn't rip him. I figured four errors spoke pretty loudly for themselves, and besides, a lot of big-leaguers would have ducked into a training room rather than face reporters as Martinez did.

But class didn't matter, only runs did, in the eighth inning on Oct. 7, 1995, when Martinez stood in with the bases loaded against John Wetteland. The Mariners were down two games to one in their best-of-five playoff with the Yankees.

Matter of fact, baseball was looking at elimination in Seattle. For want of a new stadium, the Mariners were a franchise with an uncertain future. That wasn't a happy prospect for middle-aged guys or their kids sitting by the opposing bullpen in Section 104. Seemingly each victory mattered, each pitch, each fan through the turnstiles.

With the game tied at 6, Martinez rocketed a 2-2 pitch over the center-field wall for a grand slam. I grabbed my 10-year-old son in one arm and the 7-year-old in the other and hoisted them madly. At that moment, baseball here seemed a little more certain.

Thanks to Edgar, the din in the Kingdome was never as loud as right then. Thanks to Edgar, it was louder the next night.

I always tell people about the time Edgar walked halfway across the clubhouse to get me a chair to sit in so we
could talk. That in this day and age he never considered
free agency, that he wouldn't even complain one year about making only slightly more than Al Martin.

"It's more money than I ever dreamed of making," he told
me about his salary. "I'm a very lucky person."

Unfortunately, the image of Edgar that lingers with me is
him looking like he'd been shot as he pulled up trying to steal a base in the final exhibition game before the start of the 1993 season. We forget Edgar could run. He debuted
in 1987 as a pinch-runner. His first major-league hit was a triple.

But in Vancouver's B.C. Place, which hadn't had a baseball game played there in five years, he slipped badly in an area off first base that Seattle manager Lou Piniella would later call a "sandbox." He had torn a hamstring and would play only 42 games that season, his batting average dropping from a league-leading .343 the year before to .237.

He was destined to be a DH, the best the game had ever seen. He wouldn't play in the field much again, but he developed into a productive power hitter, hitting more than 24 home runs for eight seasons when, until he was hurt, he had never hit even 20. It was a sad day that changed a career, perhaps for the better.