Steve Aschburner was a top-notch Timberwolves beat writer for the Star Tribune in the 1990s. As prolific as he was, he couldn't do it all by himself.

That's where I came in.

In 1999, after covering a Twins team that went 63-97-1, I was assigned as Aschy's backup on the Wolves beat. One day, as I headed to practice at Target Center, I had the radio on in the car during a sports update.

In what will go down as a controversial vote, Pudge Rodríguez was named American League Most Valuable Player.

I voted for Manny Ramirez that year. But that wasn't what made me nearly drive off the road. The following was:

Boston righthander Pedro Martínez finished second in voting. Two writers left Martínez completely off the ballot. They were George King of the New York Post and La Velle E. Neal III of the Minneapolis Star Tribune.

My reaction: Wait. What? Just two?

Monday will mark the 25th anniversary of that unpopular vote, a vote that sent shockwaves throughout North America. I didn't intend to create controversy, but I found it difficult to give a pitcher a vote for MVP. I knew I wasn't the only writer who felt that way, leading to my surprise at the results.

As I filled out the ballot that year, I kept moving Martínez down my list because he was a pitcher. That led to the conclusion that he shouldn't be on the ballot at all, if I'm deducting points because of that.

Martínez was ridiculous that year, going 23-4 with a 2.07 ERA. He received eight first-place votes for MVP, six second-place votes, four third-place votes, one for fourth, two for fifth, two for sixth and three for seventh.

A lot has been made of the two reporters who left Martínez off the ballot. But anyone who gave him less than a third-place vote that year devalued him as a pitcher. Guaranteed.

I received over 400 emails, 101% of them disagreeing with me with varying intensity. I printed them all thinking that if I ever had kids, they would be an example of how to deal with unpopular decisions.

The voicemails were relentless. There was a group of Red Sox fans who called me to complain about the vote and then called on the first and second anniversaries as a reminder. One guy left a message. Then called back to leave a couple of racial slurs.

I learned a lot about myself during that time. I was insecure as a kid. Didn't like being the butt of jokes. And I didn't handle it well. Maybe resistance built up through the years because I didn't care what the response was. Fans and colleagues were upset with the decision, but I never regretted it. My mother was worried I was going to be fired.

The Star Tribune's sports editor at the time, Glen Crevier, is a Red Sox fan. "I will support you, but I disagree with you," he said at the time. Whew.

Amid the controversy, there was entertainment.

Among the voicemails I received, one was from a woman swearing (I think) at me in Spanish before switching to English and saying: "This is the office of the president of the Dominican Republic. How could you not vote for our national hero, Pedro Martínez?" I hung up the phone and told my co-workers: "I have the entire country of the Dominican Republic mad at me."

A half-hour later, Twins General Manager Terry Ryan called me to let me know that he had his bilingual secretary call me with the prank. I laughed. That's a quality joke. And that secretary was Juanita Lagos. Daughter of Buzz. Sister of Manny.

The next week, I was covering the Wolves-Trail Blazers game when I had to retrieve something from the media room shortly before the third quarter. The Wolves were leaving their dressing room as I appeared in the hallway. The late, great Flip Saunders saw me, smiled and winked. Anthony Peeler walked by and said: "Dang, La Velle. Everyone wants to know why you didn't vote for Pedro." Terrell Brandon, Ol' Stop-N-Pop himself, was right behind Peeler. "I'm a Yankees fan. I loved what you did!" he said.

I had a couple of interactions with Martínez over the next year. One was in the visitor's clubhouse at the Dome. I was waiting to get a quote from Carl Everett, who had singlehandedly demolished the Twins that evening. I felt a pair of eyes on me, turned and it was Pedro.

"You did not vote for me. Not even sixth, seventh or eighth," he said.

"Yes, Pedro," I replied. "But I read quotes from you that you weren't mad."

Martínez took a few steps back, looked at me from head to toe and said: "And the man even looks like me!"

The next year, Boss Crevier requested a Martínez story during a Twins visit to Boston. The interview was monitored closely by the local media. "Pedro, are you trying to get La Velle to change his vote," Boston Globe writer Gordon Edes asked. "No, he has a right to vote the way he wants," Martínez said.

The rhetoric has changed through the years. He brought up his disappointment during his Hall of Fame induction speech. This year, as a Fox analyst, Martínez referred to Knig and me as knuckleheads. I contacted Fox to try to interview Martínez for this piece but never heard back.

That vote led to many discussions about how to compare hitters and pitchers for MVP. Twins players held debates in the clubhouse. Some felt the Cy Young Award was for pitchers and that was adequate.

Analytics has plowed over these antiquated opinions. Martínez led baseball with a 9.8 WAR that year, according to Baseball Reference, well before WAR was a thing. That might have been the difference-maker.

Since then, Justin Verlander won the AL MVP in 2011. Clayton Kershaw won the NL MVP in 2014. Shohei Ohtani won the AL MVP in 2021 for pitching and hitting. We look at pitchers differently, thanks to more precise statistical tools. It's one reason Bert Blyleven finally reached the Hall of Fame in 2011. Bartolo Colón had no business winning the 2005 Cy Young. It should have been Mariano Rivera or Johan Santana, but Colon's 20 wins were the deciding factor.

I don't regret the decision I made in 1999. I do admit that today's analytics would have led to a different conclusion. And maybe the other Red Sox player would have won.