TORONTO -- In May 1981, Buck Martinez felt like his days in baseball were at the end of the line. Just designated for assignment by the Brewers and faced with filling an afternoon in May for the first time in his adult life, he went for a run.
When he returned home, his wife, Arlene, had a bottle of champagne waiting on the table. He’d just been traded to the Toronto Blue Jays, that team up north playing in just their fifth season.
“Really? Is that the best they could do?” Martinez blurted out. He’s come to call that news -- and the bottle of champagne -- the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
Today, nearly 45 years later, Martinez has announced his retirement from Sportsnet, where he’d become the voice of Blue Jays baseball. As a player, a manager and a broadcaster, Martinez is one of the most important and beloved figures in Blue Jays history, a Canadian sports icon.
“Thank you all for embracing me and welcoming my family and me in a way that has made us feel like we are part of yours,” Martinez said in a statement. “I will dearly miss my working partners, the leadership at Rogers, and the Toronto Blue Jays baseball club, all of whom made it so much fun to be at the ballpark talking about the game I’ve loved for my whole life. As to the fans specifically, I will miss the ‘selfies,’ the handshakes and the welcoming smiles. I will never forget any of those, nor the unwavering support and generosity, which has meant more than words can say. I look forward to continuing to root for the Blue Jays along with you, and you’ll always be in my heart. My sincere appreciation to all of you.”
Originally brought in to work with the pitching staff and help out Ernie Whitt, who was just establishing himself as the Blue Jays’ starting catcher, Martinez carved out the final six years of his playing career in Toronto. He was part of those great teams approaching the mid-80s, as the Blue Jays rose to prominence, and Martinez’s playing days will always be remembered for the famous Broken Leg Double Play at home.
When his playing days finally came to an end, Martinez was called into the office of then-manager Jimy Williams, who was waiting with executive vice president Paul Beeston and GM Pat Gillick. Gillick was emotional in that meeting, the two of them sharing a special bond. The four men talked, but before they stood up, Beeston’s unmistakable voice came cracking through.
Martinez’s full name is John Albert Martinez, so Beeston always called him Albert. He still does today.
“Albert?!” Beeston said. “Do you want to do TV?”
Martinez declined. When he got home, Arlene told him to pick up the phone and call Beeston back right there, right now. Martinez smiles remembering that story, because once again, she was right.
Now, Buck and Arlene will have a little more time to spend together. The two met on a beach in Puerto Rico over 50 years ago when Martinez was playing winter ball. Martinez had befriended a dog in town, so he’d take it to the beach and throw the ball for it. If that ball happened to land next to the pretty girls, it was surely just a coincidence. A couple of years ago, Buck and Arlene went back to that same beach together and took some photos.
When the two were younger, Arlene was an actress, and her talents helped Buck as he made the transition from the diamond to the broadcast booth. She even convinced him to take acting lessons because his voice on those early broadcasts, as Buck remembers, “sounded like Ted Knight.” He was on the Mary Tyler Moore Show with the big TV voice like, “Hellooo, everybody!”
Martinez’s broadcasting career spanned more than four decades. Blue Jays fans have known him across different networks, different eras of this organization. They’ve watched him on seven-inch TVs with antennas and 70-inch flat-screens. He’s one of the few figures who connects it all.
There’s an intimacy between a broadcaster and a fan base, especially one who’s been around as long as Martinez has. In 2022, Martinez stepped away from the booth after being diagnosed with cancer. His doctor told him that he’d miss the entire season, but Martinez kindly suggested that the doctor do his job … and that he’d do his. Just over two months later, Martinez was back in the booth, a day we’ll always remember. Martinez called it the most emotional day of his career.
“I get emotional thinking about it … but it was special because my son and his family were there,” Martinez remembered. “Then, when I saw the players come out of the dugout, that’s when it really hit me. I thought to myself, ‘Wow, you must be doing something right.’”
He has.
Whether he’s in Toronto, Dunedin, New York or any small town across Canada, Martinez is beloved. If you close your eyes, you’d assume Vladimir Guerrero Jr. had just walked out of the dugout, but it’s Martinez. Fans want to take a picture, to thank him, to tell him a story. They want to hear that famous voice come out of his mouth, just once, in the real world.
Dan Shulman, Martinez’s broadcast partner going back to their days at TSN in the mid-90s, has seen it all.
“It’s unbelievable. I’m often the guy people ask to take a picture of them and Buck, and that’s totally fine. I am happy to be back here. It’s just unbelievable. There’s something about Buck. Without even consciously trying to, he makes connections,” Shulman said in an interview for ‘The Franchise: Toronto Blue Jays.’ “I don’t even know what the right word is, but he has this way about him. He touches people. There have been times walking with Buck … if I walked in wearing a clown suit, nobody would even notice.”
“You’re not going to find a finer human being,” said former Blue Jays manager John Gibbons. “Buck always brings a smile to my face. He’s always positive. He’s just one of those guys who, when he comes around, you feel good. When you see Buck, you feel better. He’s a legend. He’s done it on the field and in the broadcast booth. He’s really a special man.”
That’s the magic of Buck Martinez. An entire country of baseball fans feel the same way as the players, coaches and media members who spend every day alongside Martinez… like they know him. He’s just “Buck,” the one and only.
Buck is hanging it up now. The old catcher got more than he ever dreamed of that day in 1981. We’re all just lucky to have been along for the ride.