Just a Ball of Confusion

So Mike Trout has been voted the AL MVP, and what's wrong with that?

Certainly, judging by all the statistics, old and new, and that other thing, you know, um, watching the guy play, he is the best player in the American League and probably all of baseball.  Good on him.

But there's this:  Trout also missed about a month of play—28 games.  In the 134 games he did play, the team was 61-73.  In the games he missed, they were 11-17.

In other words, it made relatively little difference to his mediocre team if Trout was on the field or not.  And this is where we get into the problem with the whole title of the "Most Valuable Player" award.

Does it mean "the best player"?  In which case, statistically, Mickey Mantle probably should have won 8-9 MVP awards, and Babe Ruth, 13-14?  (I know, I know:  the yearly, sportswriter-run, MVP was not around yet in The Babe's time.)

And why should we still be throwing pitchers into this contest, when they have their own award?  But let's not go there just now.

The point is, half the time the Knights of the Press Box seem to be voting on who the best player is, and half the time on which player made the biggest difference for his team.

And as usual, this gray area works against the Yankees, and for the darlings of MLB, the Boston Red Sox.  Thus, Pedroia was the MVP in 2008, but not LeMahieu—with a virtually identical (and slightly better) season in 2019.

Look, I realize this is an old, old debate.  Back in the old days, it used to tilt more toward the Yanks, as Williams lost out to DiMaggio in 1941 and 1947, and Flash Gordon in 1942.  (Apparently, at the time, some of the Knights of the Press Box used to bet heavily on who would win the MVP—then try to throw the vote.)

I'm just saying baseball should resolve it.  Have a Best Everyday Player, a Most Valuable Player, and a Cy Young winner, for instance.  Or at least define, once and for all, what the MVP should be.