In this week’s Metro column, I boldly made the following claim:

[Manny] Ramirez is arguably the best active player to have never received an MVP award. He’s certainly the best active player to be so consistently snubbed; of similar players, he has the fewest top-five finishes without ever finishing in the top two.

But of course, Manny is far from the only great active player to never take home the trophy, and while I was cogitating about this column, I got to talking about these players with my co-conspirators here at UmpBump. We bandied about some other names of active players who have, amazingly enough, never won an MVP: Gary Sheffield and Jim Thome lead the pack, in my mind, and you could make a case for perennially beloved also-rans Derek Jeter and David Ortiz as well.

Sure, there are fantastic younger guys who haven’t won the trophy yet. But when it comes to the David Wrights, Chase Utleys, and Hanley Ramirezes of baseball, one can say, “Hey, he’s still young.” And there are deserving players who are always a long shot to take home the hardware simply by virtue of their position; most pitchers and designated hitters suffer this fate. (I’ve included Ortiz here on my list of snubs because a) yes, I’m a Red Sox fan and this is my list, you jerks and b) he’s finished in the top 5 of the MVP balloting for the past four years running—a neat trick for any player, even more so considering the entrenched bias among many members of the BBWAA against voting for a full-time DH.)

But with the Sheffs and the Mannys and the Thomes, it’s a different story. You can’t necessarily point to a certain year and say, “This is the year he deserved to win,” but you’re still surprised to learn he’s never gotten the trophy.

Of active players, who do you think is the biggest MVP snub? Anyone going to take a stand for Todd Helton? Or Mike Piazza, still technically active? Any secret Carlos Delgado fans out there?

Who gets your vote?

more at twiigs.com…

Joe Sheehan at Baseball Prospectus Unfiltered thinks people (or at least, Peter Schmuck) aren’t publishing The Truth about Barry Bonds. Some of his points are duly noted—Bonds is not the slow, broken player Schmuck casts him as. But with other points, you get the feeling that Schmuck just got deeply under Sheehan’s skin and then couldn’t get out again—such as when Schmuck claims that Bonds would create “a chronic public relations problem” and Sheehan responds, “Barry Bonds doesn’t create a public relations problem…Barry Bonds has a media relations problem.” That’s pretty weak hair-splitting. And Sheehan’s dismissal of Barry Bonds legal problems looks a bit different now that the indictment as been refiled. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a spirited defense of Barry Bonds (hard to come by these days), it’s worth a read.

Respect Jeter’s Gangster weighs in on the Jobagate fist-pump controversy with some situations in which it may or may not be appropriate for you to pump your fist.

The Padres’ struggles have inspired a debate over at Gaslamp Ball about whether professional ballplayers even need coaches. I say they do. What do you say?

Ever wondered what happened to the old Tiger Stadium? Joe Lapointe has an article in The New York Times and Fabrizio Constantini an eye-opening slide show. (Did you know that they auctioned off one of the dugout urinals last year? I somehow missed that story. And somehow, my life was complete without that particular piece of information.) It’s weird to think that the Tigers have been in Comerica for almost ten years, and that Tiger Stadium has been mouldering scarcely a mile away the entire time. My one beef with the slide show—I like artsy detail shots as much as any amateur shutterbug, but I would have liked a picture of the entire field included, to serve as an establishing shot. And some “before” shots would have been nice to go along with the “afters.”

Bleeding Blue and Teal weighs in on Griffey-to-Seattle trade talk and how such a move might actually make sense.

As draft day approaches, Minor League Ball looks at some high school hitters of interest. If you root for a craptastic team with a high pick, you can start drooling over them now. If you root for a great team with a lot of money, you can start hoping they develop “signability issues.”

Yanksfan Soxfan brings us a blind item from the NY Daily News about a “formerly awesome” pitcher whose shoulder woes are actually due to “years of smoking pot” and “one drug-addled incident in which he had to carry a passed-out date up three flights of stairs.” Guesses in the comments range from the preposterous (Schilling, Pedro) to the “hmmmm…maybe” (Gagne, Zito, Pavano). Got a better guess? Let ‘em know!

If you’ve got cabin fever because it’s a gorgeous May Day and you came into work today like a good doobie instead of calling in sick and going hiking like you really, really wanted to, maybe you should take a look at Slate’s series on baseball in the Dominican Republic (with, of course, an accompanying slide show).

Dan Graziano of the Star Ledger prints some email correspondence with Carlos Delgado’s agent. Neither man comes off looking very good (hint: someone calls someone a retard). Yes, these men are professionals! Do not try this at home!

Razzball takes a look back at Pete Rose’s 1983 season, a year “Pete evaded success like it was the taxman.”

Joe Posnanski brings you Brian Bannister’s crazy day-night splits.

And I said Over The Monster’s picture of Mike Lowell (above) looked like “George Clooney-meets-Humphrey Bogart-meets-UFH.” Paul countered, “He just looks like he’s giving Tek the ol’ stink eye.” What do you think, UmpBumpers?

What else should I be reading? Help me procrastinate better!

A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it.
- Agent K

I admit it completely. I am not a guy that the average baseball fan would enjoy bringing to a ball game:

1. I will not do the wave. In fact, I was at the Mets-Braves game on Saturday and seriously questioned the logic of the guys in the right field Mezzanine seats at Shea trying to start the wave. In the ninth inning. Of a one run game. Do you guys have any interest in the outcome of the inning at all???
2. I won’t get drunk at a game. Beers are too expensive, and when my choices are Bud, Bud Light, and Bud Select, I will most likely choose “none of the above”. Besides, there’s a game going on. Focus, people.
3. I do not jump up and down at the sight of the Pepsi Party Patrol shooting t-shirts out of a cannon. Nor do I understand people who are sitting all the way in the back of the sections who do so. I mean, do you understand at all that there’s no way in hell that a t-shirt is coming your way? It’s not a matter of being vocal. It’s just physically impossible. Plus the t-shirts are crap.
4. I refuse to boo. It’s a worthless exercise.

I can go on and on regarding why I’m no fun at a baseball game. But it’s that fourth reason that I want to address right now.

A lot of Mets fans spent all winter fuming. We basically had six months to stew over “the collapse”. When April rolled around, the general fanbase was out for blood. The team had let us down in September. The manager and coaches had let us down. The front office executives let us down. And the fans wanted to let them know it. So what have Met fans done consistently in April?

They booed. A lot. They even booed Johan Santana, who had the audacity to allow five runs in one game. I’m serious. These people are nuts.

But the guy who has taken the brunt of it has been Carlos Delgado. Prior to last night’s game, the Mets first baseman had the line of .186/.276/.256. That’s not a typo. Carlos Delgado was slugging .256. And the fans booed him after every out he made at the plate.

This changed yesterday afternoon, when Delgado cranked two homeruns against the Braves in the Mets 6-3 win. Following his second round-tripper, the fans stood up and cheered loudly, begging Delgado to give them a curtain call.

But Delgado would not come out. He celebrated in the dugout, taking high-fives from teammates with a grin on his face. But he ignored the fans’ request (and then, they predictably booed him). And I didn’t blame him one bit.

I’m not sure when it came to pass that the fans started feeling entitled to things. We’re entitled to a team that contends each and every year. We’re entitled to an owner who’s willing to spend every dollar to make that happen. We’re entitled to a team that not only excels on the field, but also shows fire. When we don’t get these things (at least here in NY), the fans become upset. And I don’t know why. Maybe it comes down to ticket prices. We’re paying more and more each year and as a result of paying that price, maybe we expect too much.

But the fact remains that booing a player is not going to get him “untracked“. It only creates resentment. It only makes New York less appealing. The players are not our monkeys. They’re not going to, nor should they, oblige to our every whim. So why should Delgado care as to what we think? When we didn’t show any signs of support when he was down, why should he appreciate any level of goodwill that we may show? It’s incredibly condescending to expect otherwise.

The part that really bothers me is the mob mentality. If these fans met Delgado one-on-one, I’d bet that each person would gushing at the chance to meet a real Met. But because the baseball writers and bloggers have nothing else to write about, all the fans hear is how underachieving and lackluster this team is. Hence, the booing. Individually, we’re genuine human beings. Together, we turn into jackasses.

So what does Carlos Delgado owe us Mets fans? Nothing he doesn’t owe himself. We treated him like crap and we’re surprised when he doesn’t beg for our approval? Please. You reap what you sow.

NOTE: The one thing I can’t help doing at a game is air drumming to “Enter Sandman” when Billy Wagner comes out. It’s early Metallica. The apex of rockitude. I will not sit idly by. Thank you.

Carlos Delgado is beating up the Cardinals in the NLCS and the press are jumping all over themselves to praise both his bat and his brain. 

Washington Post columnist Thomas Boswell calls Delgado “friendly” and “mature” and is urging Cardinals 1B Albert Pujols to follow Delgado’s example.

In his 14th season, the native of Puerto Rico is on the verge of upstaging the only first baseman in the league who surpasses him in talent, though not in temperament: the Cardinals’ grumpy Albert Pujols. In a postseason that has been short on dramatic themes, the contrast between Delgado, who has coped superbly with New York pressure, and Pujols, whose reputation has not flourished this month outside the protective cocoon of St. Louis, is now worth our full attention.

Meanwhile, AP sports writer Donald Blum is lauding what Mets manager Willie Randolph calls Deldgado’s “real cerebral approach.”

Delgado is not just a teammate - he’s also a teacher and motivator. He records each of his plate appearances in a notebook for future reference, as diligently as Curt Schilling marks down notes on hitters in a spiral-bound book.

“I had it for like probably 10 years,” Delgado said. “The last few years, it’s a habit. It’s part of my routine. I write it down, and at the end of the day I have a little bit more customized - for lack of a better term - scouting report. My memory’s not as good as it used to be, so I’ve got to write (stuff) down.”

I first became a Delgado fan when he refused to stand on the field during “God Bless America” in 2004 and 2005, a protest of the U.S.-Iraq war. That small gesture seemed to perfectly sum up what Delgado is all about. He’s both an athlete and a roll-model.

Now, if the Mets win the ALCS, he’ll most likely the the series MVP.

I find it interesting that this year, where the majority of playoff teams were franchises with low payrolls, the two biggest postseason stars have been Delgado and Magglio Ordonez, two guys who have had outstanding careers, but have managed to (to the extent possible) fly under the radar. Just goes to show, I guess, that having big talent is often better than having a big name.