The man throws some wicked pitches and has been something of a savior out of the bullpen but is supposedly causing Zambrano some real confusion.
Wrigley Field Clubhouse-
(Carlos Z walks up to Carlos M who is standing next to his locker picking lint off his game jersey)
Z: I’m Carlos! (defiant)
Z: You Carlos? (soft spoken, questioning-ly)
M: (Silence mixed with slightly audible trepidation)
Z: (Silent, looking at Marmol with the curious intent of a dangerous mammal considering his reflection in a mirror)
Z: I’m Carlos! (screaming, hands at his side, face in a mad red rage)
Z: Carlos skinny (soft spoken again)
Z: Carlos must eat (lurks off towards the food tray)
M: (Still silent, storm has pasted, visibly befuddled)
Piniella (watching from a folding chair a dozen feet away): He Carlos! (walks after Z towards the food tray)