A makeup game today

ANAHEIM, Calif. -- It might be as illusory as a smog-free horizon here. It might be wishful thinking. It might be a refusal to acknowledge that even the most accomplished performers in our midst are obliged by the passage of time to cede some of their greatness, sometimes almost imperceptibly, at other times so painfully obvious it hurts, no one more than the artist himself.

But when Pedro Martinez takes the ball tonight against the Anaheim Angels, taking with him to the mound an amalgam of smoldering anger, barely concealed hurt, and wounded pride, it is eminently possible -- no, make that a strong likelihood -- that he will deliver one of the signature games of his career.

"He's been there before," said Sox first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz. "He's been pitching big games his whole career. You just believe."

No guarantees of victory came out of Martinez's mouth yesterday, not on a day when very little was coming out of his mouth. He took a pass on the customary pregame news conference for the next day's starting pitcher (Johnny Damon was his entertaining stand-in) and offered very little for public consumption after the Sox stomped the Angels, 9-3, behind Curt Schilling in Game 1, shooing away most reporters and telling a couple of others that anything he said was not to be put into print.

"I will talk tomorrow after I pitch," said Martinez, who just missed his cue during pregame introductions and did not appear on the field. "People now, they can write whatever they want."

Martinez comes into this postseason in the unprecedented position of having lost his last four starts, something that had never happened to him in one season. Schilling, by Martinez's own admission, has displaced him as the ace of this staff. Beaten twice in a five-day span by the Yankees, setbacks bookended by losses to the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, Martinez appeared more vulnerable than at any time he has been here except when he has been hurt -- and with his "call the Yankees my daddy" expression of frustration seemed stripped of whatever bravado remained.

With free agency looming, the possible final act of a seven-year run as brilliant as any ever enjoyed by a pitcher for the Olde Towne Team looked as though it might be memorable only for what had been lost.

Don't be so sure.

"Pedro is Pedro," said Darin Erstad, the Angels' first baseman who has witnessed first-hand the mastery Martinez has displayed over the Angels -- a 9-1 record with a 2.12 ERA in 13 starts, a string of success marred only by Vladi Guerrero's nine-RBI explosion this summer. "You say Schilling is a big-game pitcher? Pedro is, too. We'll have to have our act together to beat him."

As dispirited as Martinez appeared last week in the dome against the D-Rays -- he's incensed at the suggestion it had anything to do with Schilling getting the Game 1 nod over him ("Don't I have the right to struggle like anybody else?") -- his teammates were heartened at his one shining moment that night. That's when the Devil Rays loaded the bases with no outs in the third and Martinez, lighting up the radar gun at 96 miles an hour, found something extra and set down the next three hitters, striking out two.

"I think that his last game of the regular season was like a wakeup call for everyone," said teammate and friend David Ortiz. "Even though he gave up a couple of runs, he shut things down at the right time. That's the Petey everybody knows.

"It was a wakeup call for all of us. For him, for the media, for us. For him, because he's going through a tough time and trying to come out of it. For us, because of what we expect of him. For you guys, because that's what you want to see from him."

It should surprise no one that Martinez, famous for being able to single out one voice of contempt in a chorus of supporters, would be distressed by what he perceives as a pack of critics smelling blood, his blood. He has always had a knack, pitching coach Dave Wallace has noted on more than one occasion, of finding dragons that must be slain to prove his virtue, again and again. These are the times when he is most dangerous. As palpable as his frustration was at his inability to vanquish the Yankees, Martinez sneers at the suggestion that he was conceding anything to the Bombers, or anyone else.

"Everybody seems to be getting on Petey about how he's not pitching well," Mientkiewicz said, "but the postseason is completely different. If he didn't win a game all year, we'd be very comfortable with him going out there. We want him on the mound. We're confident he's going to win.

"As an opposing player, you know how good he can be even when he doesn't have his A stuff. Guys gear up for him more than any other pitcher in the big leagues. The last few starts, the more people get on him, the more confident we get as a team. You talk to him, he's faced adversity since he's gotten to the big leagues, when he was 5-10 and 140 pounds, and he keeps winning. He's one of the best pitchers of our era."

That era has lasted a dozen years, a lifetime for most pitchers. The record speaks for itself; there has been slippage. But there was a look of defiance in Martinez's eyes that spoke louder than anything he could have said. Prepare yourself, Sox fans, to bear witness to the best of what Pedro Martinez has left to offer.

"I've been telling Pedro the last couple of days that he has a lot to prove," shortstop Orlando Cabrera said. "Tomorrow is going to be interesting. I think he is going to throw a hell of a game."