Howard-Pujols. Pedroia-Morneau. Webb-Lincecum. Lee-Halladay.
McCain-Obama.
Aren't you excited?
Okay, fine, so I'm not a political columnist. And there's no need for me to be. Considering that I'm a fairly liberal person writing for a fairly liberal newspaper on a fairly liberal college campus, I really have nothing original to say. And even if I did, what good would it do? The vast majority of those reading this are either (A) solidly locked into their respective political camps to the point where my writing won't make the slightest difference or (B) so disillusioned by the shallowness of the modern political process that they couldn't care less anymore.
I'm writing today to address that latter group. Isn't the annual "debate" over baseball postseason awards more or less the same? Doesn't it get sickening?
In one corner, John McCain argues that his time as a prisoner-of-war qualifies him to be president, as if he's the only American ever to be held prisoner. In the other, Chris Singleton goes on ESPN advocating Justin Morneau for AL MVP because "he has played every game for his team this season," an accomplishment he shares with "superstars" like Raul Ibanez.
In one corner, Sarah Palin argues that her proximity to Russia gives her "foreign policy experience," despite the fact that Wasilla, Alaska is closer to Havana than Moscow. In the other, Jayson Stark sides with Dustin Pedroia for MVP because he's "batted .374 since June 14," seemingly implying that games in April and May don't count, or something.
What's the difference? I mean, sure, one of these debates is about controlling the future of the free world while the other is about a guy that plays a game for a living putting a plaque on his bookshelf. But isn't the inanity of both storylines just driving you crazy at this point? Aren't you fed up yet?
You probably are, but at the same time you probably understand that behind all the partisan bickering is a tremendously important election season. You know that if the economy continues to tank, we continue to leave our troops in Iraq indefinitely with no plan for withdrawal and we continue to blatantly ignore our needs for better education, more health care, renewable energy, reduced climate change and social policies that make … logical … sense, then the country as we know it is likely, for lack of a more forceful word I've been told I shouldn't use in a newspaper, flummoxed (I'm a Democrat, by the way.).
So what does it say about me that I'm even more terrified of the NL MVP voting than I am of the race for president?
Certain favorites of mine (Grady Sizemore for MVP, Roy Halladay for Cy Young) are the Perots and Naders of the awards season, so hopelessly out of their respective races that I won't bother arguing for them here. But not Albert Pujols. He's actually got a shot — he's blessed with "the audacity of hope," if you will. And I've said things like this about politicians before, but I think that as it applies to baseball, I might actually mean it this time: If Ryan Howard wins another MVP, I may have to move to Guam.
For once, ignore those big gaudy numbers in the "HR" and "RBI" columns! Focus on the fact that Ryan Howard's OBP is .339, only eight points above the league average, and the most important part of "being valuable" is "being a guy that doesn't make tons of outs." For once, let's be reasonable and give the hardware — regardless of team performance — to the guy hitting .357/.462/freaking .653. The guy having the best year of any NL player since 2006, which was the year some guy named Pujols slugged .671 and some guy named Howard stole his plaque.
Anyway, I'm overdoing it. None of this really matters. But I'm way past being reasonable, so just go with it. Join me, my fellow Americans. Join me in revolting against the RBI-powered establishment. Join me boldly, confidently, preemptively and a bit irrationally — because after all, that's what this country's all about.
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Evans Clinchy is a senior majoring in English. He can be reached at Evans.Clinchy@tufts.edu.
