Yankees History: The most dominant (and overlooked) Silver Slugger season

The New York Yankees' homegrown Core Four of the 1990s will be forever entwined in the web of baseball history. In retrospect, it's become universally trendy to add Bernie Williams into the group, morphing the Core into a five-deep motor that drove annual success. The impulse is valid; Williams deserves his flowers.

But history has left the Yankees' 1990s imports a level lower on the shelf, and while our rose-colored nostalgia glasses will always land on the Hall of Famers from the farm system first, it remains crazy how impactful the Gene Michael/Bob Watson threads were to the larger tapestry. The Yankees have gained a reputation for buying their success over the years, but ... how can I put this ... that's actually when the winning stopped.

No, alright, fine, not the winning, but the championships. The consistent drumbeat. The inevitability. Brian Cashman brought in Roger Clemens in 1999, swapping out David Wells. He swung a deal for David Justice in 2000, who I guess counts on the downswing of his career? But from Jason Giambi forward, excepting 2009, the Yankees pivoted their offseason ethos to "get major stars" instead of "find perfect fits," and that forever altered their status, limiting their ability to build depth.

But in the mid-1990s ... oh, in the mid-1990s ... they were perfect at this. Paul O'Neill. Scott Brosius. Cecil Fielder. Tim Raines. Wade Boggs. Chili Davis. Each of these players had somewhere between a one-season wink and a decade of dominance. Each was undervalued when they entered the Bronx, or left behind by the rest of the league. And it's quite possible that no single season from a Yankees veteran has ever been as incredible as what Tino Martinez brought to the table in 1997, his second season after taking over for Don Mattingly.

1997 Tino Martinez was the 1990s Yankees' most fun Silver Slugger season

In 1996, Martinez hit .244 with three homers in his first month with the Yankees, hearing the skittish boos from a crowd that loved its departing captain. From May forward, though, he became part of the roster's fabric, fading into the quilt during a World Series run with many heroes. Martinez hit .091 in the Fall C, but was a major part of a flag that was destined to fly forever. No harm, no foul.

The next season? Martinez tried to make sure history would not forget him, and it's our goal to further underscore a year lost in the shadows of the gilded age. After all, who remembers 1997 these days, the only season without a pennant before (shudders) 2002?

The postseason did not go so well. Still, there was a whole summer when Martinez's Home Run Derby was the top association between "1997 Yankees" and "Cleveland," as he laid waste to Jacobs Field and hoisted the trophy. He'd earned the All-Star nod and showcase by hitting .302 with 28 homers and a .989 OPS for the defending champs; not only did he start the game, but he batted cleanup, tucked between Ken Griffey Jr. and another Martinez (Edgar). For Mariners fans, this lineup was torture; add in Alex Rodriguez in the two-hole, and that could've been four consecutive Ms if not for the 1995 trade that shipped Tino East. But for Yankees fans, it was a rightful anointing.

His best power month was May, when he smashed 11 homers. His best OPS? June (1.037). Best average? August; he hit .327 with five long balls. There wasn't a month where Martinez didn't make an impressive mark. He was, suddenly, the face of baseball, as his mustachioed predecessor had been in the previous decade.

While there would be no "Hang Onto the ROOF!" moment for Martinez in the Yankees' singular series that October, his time would come; he made Yankee Stadium collapse with a 1998 World Series grand slam, and sent the Diamondbacks into slackjawed disbelief a few years later. 1997 was, though, the year Martinez arrived and took over the world; he finished second in the AL MVP race (to Junior's 56 homers, hard to argue), but took home the well-deserved Silver Slugger at first base to go along with the crystal Derby trophy for his mantel.

To win the Silver Slugger, he took down the three first basemen who made the AL All-Star roster behind him: Mark McGwire (traded midseason to St. Louis and all but eliminated), Jim Thome, and Frank Thomas. Major Stars, all of them, once again defeated by a Perfect Fit. That's what used to happen around these parts, after all.