The fourth inning of Game 3 began with a walk to Jorge Posada, followed by a single by Johnson and a double by Hideki Matsui. Martinez, working with a base open, had seen enough. With his next pitch he whistled a fastball behind the head of Karim Garcia. The pitch hit a stunned Garcia in the back.
"I don't think Pedro was trying to hurt him," says John Burkett, a Red Sox righthander since retired. "He was trying to send a message. It was, F--- this, I've got to put a scare into somebody. And he did." (Martinez claimed the pitch simply got away.)
In the bottom of the fourth inning that day, Red Sox leftfielder Manny Ramirez caused both benches to empty when, bat in hand, he glowered at Clemens after a pitch that was nowhere close to hitting him. Don Zimmer, the portly 72year-old Yankees bench coach, charged across the field at Martinez.
"He reached for my right arm," Martinez says. "I thought, Is he going to pull it? Is he trying to hurt me? I tossed him down."
Zimmer fell awkwardly to the ground in front of the Red Sox dugout. He would apologize through tears the next day for his actions, but that did not stop New York City mayor Michael Bloomberg from suggesting that Martinez would be arrested if he had acted that way in New York.
So it should have come as no surprise when, ahead 4--1 after a rather easy sixth inning in Game 7, Martinez sat next to assistant trainer Chris Correnti and said, "Chris, I'm a little fatigued."
The Red Sox are a Calvinistic franchise. Fathers have passed to their sons, who have passed to their sons, a doctrine of predestination. Only by the grace of God, and not by a wicked starting rotation, can the Red Sox ever win a World Series again. The Calvinists' God, however, also marks certain souls for damnation. So it is that Fenway Park in the late innings of a close game can be churchlike in its silence. The faithful can only wait for God to do His work, knowing that it includes more damnation.
"I want to win a World Series with Boston more than anything else," Martinez says. "I'd rather win one with Boston than three or four with any other team. I've had so many people say to me they pray to God they don't die before the Red Sox win the World Series. But after that, they're satisfied, they can die."
The Yankees made Martinez exert himself in the seventh. Jason Giambi hit his second homer of the night to cut the lead to 4--2. Enrique Wilson and Garcia followed with singles. Martinez gamely fanned Alfonso Soriano, though it took a grueling six-pitch at bat to do so. He had thrown 100 pitches. As he walked off the mound, Martinez gave thanks to God by pointing to the sky, his usual coda to a full night's work.
In the far end of the dugout Garciaparra threw his arms around Martinez, a gesture of appreciation for his effort. At the other end of the dugout pitching coach Dave Wallace pulled his pitching log notebook from his pocket, scratched out Martinez's name and, with the lefthanded Johnson due up next inning, wrote in the name of lefthanded reliever Alan Embree.