Martinez is going to make you laugh. He is going to offer an emphatic opinion or explanation that might infuriate you. He will repeat his comments about the media ("I don't like you guys," he said yesterday). He will go to his mental iPod and replay a list of slights from various sources.
He remembers one-lining local columnists, national beat writers who left him off their 1999 MVP ballots, doubting WEEI talk-show hosts and callers who -- in his view -- ripped him for being sick last season, anyone who refers to him as a "headhunter," and even the one shouting fan who caught his attention as he walked toward the dugout at Fenway.
There's something else you should know by now, too. Martinez is going to have a dynamic season. If you've followed the man's Hall of Fame career, a predicted great season is not exactly a high-wire statement. He's always good. Now he may have the motivation to be even better.
This is the last year of his contract, he said he feels as strong as he did when he was a kid, Curt Schilling is covering his back, and this is his first full season working with pitching coach Dave Wallace (who once saw a starter named Eric Gagne throw and decided that he should become a closer).
What's it going to be this time for Martinez? What other notable item is he going to place in his cart before he inevitably heads to the checkout line in Cooperstown?
He already has 166 wins. At 32, Hall of Famer Whitey Ford had eight fewer and Hall of Famer Lefty Grove had five more. He hasn't had an ERA over 3.00 since he was 24 and living in Montreal. He has five ERA titles and one second-place finish. He owns three Cy Youngs and has three other top-three finishes.
If you've been listening to him all this time, you understand that he also has the most pride of all New England pro athletes. Someone asked him if Schilling will push him, and he said he doesn't need an extra push. That's true. What he didn't say is that although he doesn't need the push, he'll have it anyway because that's just how he works.
