A DH can be the MVP.

            I’m not saying this because I think they should hand the award to Papi. You can make a legit argument for A-Rod, and I wouldn’t criticize anybody who voted for him. He’s a great bat, a great glove, and a great all-around player. But this idea that Ortiz doesn’t deserve it because his job is somehow gravy since he doesn’t play the field is ridiculous. Personally, I’m not a fan of the DH. Maybe it’s because I grew up watching National League baseball, but I think it removes a wonderful element of strategy from the game. But it’s completely unfair to penalize a guy for a playing a position that Major League baseball mandates exist in the American League. If you have a problem with the rules, write Selig. But as long as it’s listed on a lineup card, it’s as legit as any other position and deserves the same amount of respect for excellence achieved. And while it is true that Ortiz only rarely ever steps on the field wearing a glove, he’s also left with half the chances to maintain a level of brilliance. Yes, manning the hot corner is an extra challenge for A-Rod, but it also allows him to receive admiration on a day when he goes 0-4 with three strikeouts by making a couple run saving grabs. In a weird way, one provides a safety net for the other. Ortiz, though, has no cushion. Every time he grabs a bat, he’s expected to do damage, and big time damage at that. And he’s come up huge this season. 144 RBI’s. .342 with men in scoring position. (His actual BA is .295, which really shows how good he is when it counts) I don’t have the stats in front of me, but I’d be willing to bet that he came through this year in more high pressure, must win scenarios than A-Rod. Than anyone in the league. Period. Plus, he carried his team for a good chunk of change. Again, I’m not saying he’s a lock. But anyone dismissing the idea as farfetched is missing the point entirely.

I’ve been joking with my brother Brian (http://bk.mlblogs.com/) all September that, if undecided between Carpenter and Willis for the Cy, the tie should go to the better batter. Now I’m not so sure that wouldn’t be what broke the tie for me. Their stats are so close, and while Carpenter’s team is going to the playoffs, that’s been a done deal for St. Louis since roughly August, with no real pressure on Carpenter to perform other than for pride, achievement and hardware. Willis, though, has been carrying his team in a futile battle for a wild card spot, and doing it brilliantly. It’s not his fault his division is ten times as competitive as the Central. And in the end, both pitched incredibly well. But Dontrelle’s a good enough hitter to actually hit 7^th this season. And while that may seem arbitrary, so much of the actual voting is, anyway. In a weird way, this arbitrary reasoning for Dontrelle at least relies on something tangible.

Bartolo Colon wins it in the AL. If for no other reason than to keep a Yankee from winning. 

Congrats Padres. You fended off the semi-surging Giants. With any luck, you’ll even finish out at .500 en route to your inevitable first round sweeping, while either of the more deserving Phils or Astros start their vacations early. Well done, kids. Well done.

Prediction: Yanks win the East. Cleveland takes the wild card. Someone in the Red Sox clubhouse will secretly resent Schilling for an entire off-season.

World Series: Cards v. Angels. Cards in 6.

Last weekend, I hit a Dodgers-Giants game in S.F. and took in SBC Park (I had to stop myself from typing "Pac Bell") for the first time. I gotta say, with all due respect to my all time favorite (and soon to be demolished, which is killing me), the place I call Busch Stadium… Dude, this may be the best place in America to see a game!!! Right smack dab in the heart of the city. Water behind you. Great sightlines. Big frickin’ glove in center. Awesome energy. (The Braves have dominated the East since the first Clinton Administration, and their crowd doesn’t have half the spirit of a bunch of fans watching their team battle it out to finish sub .500) All they gotta do is lower the food and beer prices a smidge ($6.75 will only get you the basic cable nachos), and it’s basically beyond criticism.

            We also got to watch Barry’s first homer this season since getting off the gimp list. Say what you wanna say about the guy (I have before, and will continue to do so, most likely in the next paragraph), but seeing him jack one into center (#704) right in front of your eyes is an amazing sight. I was there with a bunch of friends, a couple who are die hard Dodger fans, and even they were up on their feet, high fiving folks in orange and black hats. The smiles forming across their faces- once their jaws rose from the ground- said everything they’d never come out and admit: They were dying to see Barry go long. Even while playing against their beloved Blue, currently battling (I use the term very loosely) for a spot in the playoffs. The sight of this once in a lifetime player (Even if you think he juiced- as I, for one, do- here’s the thing. You could juice the rest of baseball’s past, present and future, and 99.999% of them still couldn’t create his resume) is so awesome to behold, it brings kidlike excitement to those whose sole purpose for attending is to heckle him. He’s just that good. He’s the kind of player people will tell their grandkids about having watched, and the joy it brought to their lives. Even the most casual baseball fans appreciate this greatness.

            Which says a lot about how big a $@^& this guy is, when you factor how despised he is anywhere outside of a 415 area code. Not disliked. Despised. Of course, if you take his media berating sessions seriously, which I don’t, he’s just a guy who plays the game and is getting taken down by a bloodthirsty press. He’s actually a terrific teammate. He’s really a good dude. Why doesn’t anyone understand this? Well, Barry, if you’re Jonesing for an image makeover, I might start with your clubhouse persona. I’ve been in various locker rooms for different sports throughout many parts of the country. I’ve been around some big time superstars. And I can honestly say, I’ve never seen anything as ridiculous and off putting as Barry Bonds’ set up and demeanor. He basically has his own VIP lounge off in a corner of the clubhouse, as far away from the rest of the guys as possible. He has two lockers. A big, cushy velvet chair, lest his precious *** get damaged by the standard folding chairs the other shlubs roll with. A private TV, larger than any of the ones stationed around the clubhouse for his peons- my bad, teammates- to share. Plus an understanding that unless you’re part of the circle of reporters he accepts (During my visit, there were two), don’t dare come near. Granted, I had nothing to really ask the guy, other than genuinely wanting to know how he and his dad ended up playing golf against Steve and Rush Sanders in that episode of 90210 (You think I'm kidding, but I'm not), but that’s beside the point. Nobody else in professional sports sequesters themselves off like this. It’s like entering Camp David. I wonder how many guys on the roster he can actually identify by first and last names. I’m setting the over-under at 12.

Maybe it’s just because I’ve never been in the position to have my butt kissed in such a blatant manner. Maybe it’s because I’ve never been remotely as good at anything as Bonds is at baseball, even on a day when he goes 0-4 and commits an error. Walk a mile in another man’s shoes, yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But I could never look my teammates in the eye if I paraded myself around like this. Bonds likes to play the “damned if I do, damned if I don’t” card, but he blatantly displays an attitude of “You’re s%*t compared to me.” And that’s his prerogative, I suppose.  In the grand scheme of things, it’s not earth shattering. But while that may not make you Satan, it doesn’t exactly make you a sacrificial lamb, either.

                

136 games in, and we may get a slice of what the NL West could have been like this season.

Word on the street is that Barry Bonds, who’s been working in a little BP, may be activated from the DL, possibly as early as any day now.  Bonds, of course, has yet to take a swing this season, missing out on what has been a humdinger of a race to win the NL West by default. And without anyone really noticing (myself included), the Giants are suddenly only 5 games behind the Padres, who are rolling along at a blistering .500 pace. With this literally being anybody’s division (mostly in the sense of, who’d go out of their way to claim it?), all of a sudden, the Giants, after spending most of the season as nondescript as possible, could be heading for the playoffs.

And if it happens, it would be hard to imagine Barry not being the guy who got them over the hump.

This is a rare chance to see how valuable a guy truly is. When you can see the before and after effects he has with his team. Pujols, for example, could easily get my vote for MVP this season (if for no other that my brother Brian – bk.mlblogs.com – would kill me if I didn’t). But we never got a real chance to see the shambles the Cards might have been without him. We can speculate that they might have been lousy without their best player. Or maybe think, “Well, the team’s deep, so they’d be good, but not great.” Heck, maybe someone might theorize that the rest of the team would pull together, So Taguchi would play outta his skull and Carpenter would do the rest, therefore the team would be even better without Albert. It’s an absolutely asinine argument, but somebody would spout it. We’d only know for sure, though, the effects of Pujols’ absence if he wasn’t around, and this is what we’ve witnessed all season with Bonds.

Granted, it’s a murky proposition, considering the Giants would have only been so good even if he played all season. They’re not an incredible team either way. But with Bonds around, they may have stood head and shoulders above the rest of the West (Hey, small achievements still count). And if they suddenly become a respectable team, even reasonably competitive, it doesn’t Magnum P.I. to solve the mystery of the improbably playoff bound Giants.

You may not like the guy. Get in line. Frankly, nobody likes the guy. And the Balco stuff will hang over the rest of his legacy. The words “Barry” and “juice” are connected like PB and J. But there ain’t a guy mixed up in any of this mess, Raffy, Giambi, Sosa, maybe even Big Mac, that’s mentioned so often as having the ability to deliver a win on his own. It’s a seriously impressive achievement, when you consider how few, if any, opportunities there are to take over a baseball game. People believe he can do it. Regularly. And if he does it fresh off a rehab stint, he’ll be accomplishing more at 70% than 99% of the league could dream about at 170%.