Awards Time

Sportswriters aren’t really supposed to do this, but I’m going to discuss my awards for the American League while ignoring the National League. There’s no bias of any sort here, just a lack of room for debate on the NL side. Barry Bonds, Randy Johnson, and Albert Pujols are three of the easiest cinches for the three major awards that you can find, and while Manager of the Year isn’t so clear-cut, that’s because nobody knows the criteria for the award, and unless Jim Tracy is your uncle, you probably don’t care. So on to the AL, where things require at least the meager explanation that this space allows:

MVP: Alex Rodriguez, Rangers. First things first: it is no reflection on this man’s ability or character that the Texas pitching staff is one of the worst since the invention of pitching staffs. And if you make that concession, then by every other measure Rodriguez is the best player in the AL with ease, and second only to Bonds on the planet this year. He leads the league in homers (51), gets on base 40 percent of the time, steals bases at a good rate (18 of 21), plays good defense at the toughest position. If all of MLB were a sandlot, he’d be the first player picked. If we had to play one game against aliens with the fate of the world at stake.you get the idea.
The following is a list of arguments that people use to back up an MVP candidate that they only really like in actuality because he smiles a lot, says nice things to the media, and/or looks cute in a baseball uniform: team’s place in the standings, RBI totals, closeness of team’s pennant race (i.e. “They wouldn’t even BE in the race without Sammy Sosa!”), and percentage of a team’s offense.

Rookie of the Year: Ichiro Suzuki, Mariners. Hideo Nomo won this award in the NL in 1995, so the argument that Japanese players shouldn’t be counted as rookies doesn’t carry much weight anymore (although Chipper Jones should have taken the award anyway that year). And everything else about Ichiro’s performance speaks for itself.
From the next room Dr. Z chimes in with a hypothetical situation: what if Pujols and Ichiro had been in the same league? Would the award go to the Japanese Sultan of Singles, or would it go to the Best Rookie Since Ted Williams? (Thanks for the brilliant question, Dr. Z. That’s why we’re paying you.) I’d have to say that stolen bases, high batting averages, and that sleek Japanese heartthrob appeal will get you very far in life. but not as far as a .332/32/130 line. Thus spake Confucius.

Cy Young: Freddy Garcia, Mariners. As a manager you want your pitchers to do two things: to last a lot of innings, and not give up runs. Everything else-wins, strikeouts, homers allowed-is of secondary importance. Well, Freddy Garcia leads the AL in both innings pitched and ERA. He’s eaten up more innings than anyone and allowed runs at the lowest rate of anyone. That, dear sports fans, is what it means to be the best pitcher.
Yes, Roger Clemens is 20-2, and that’s magically delicious as we all know. But going through his season reveals six starts that should have been losses (under 7 innings and 4 or more earned runs), when his offense bailed him out. And if it’s a straight-up comparison you want, Garcia has allowed about the same number of runs as Clemens (88 to 89, including 7 unearned runs apiece), but Garcia has pitched 23.1 more innings. That’s two and a half complete games’ worth of shutout baseball. And Garcia only has two fewer wins anyway. I’ll take that.
Clemens is my runner-up, though. He’ll always have that for the trophy case.

Manager of the Year: Jimy Williams, Red Sox. Before he left: 65-53. After he left: 13-26. The guy turned out to be pretty good after all, huh?

Contact Taylor at [email protected]

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