Beltran suddenly becomes a leader

Oh, it's on.

Last year, Jimmy Rollins -- an already vocal sparkplug in the Phillies' clubhouse -- came out and declared the Phillies the team to beat in the NL East, with little more than personal pride to back him up. He and his teammates felt they had the best team in the division on paper, though that contention could be debated at length. In the end, though, Rollins performed on the field and the Phillies took advantage of the Mets' stumble to take the division for one day -- the last day.

Now, it's Carlos Beltran's turn. After three years of being a silent leader -- if that -- on the field, Beltran sat down with reporters on his first day in camp on Saturday and said, "To Jimmy Rollins: We are the team to beat."

It's certainly out of character for the reserved center fielder, but if this signals a new, outspoken outfielder, that would almost certainly be a benefit for the Mets, a team already seen as more businesslike and tightly wound than the Phillies. In my mind, the Mets already were a loose and fun-loving team, especially compared to the Yankees. So if the Mets are too stiff, what does that make the Yankees? And do the Phillies have any discipline?

I'll save my thoughts on Mets vs. Phillies on paper for my overall look at the NL East, but I'll say this now: If David Wright continues to assert himself as a clubhouse and on-field leader (and something of a captain, as suggested by the New York Times last week) and if Carlos Delgado can stay healthy and have a bit of a bounce-back season while continuing his veteran leadership, Beltran's emergence as a more visible leader can only help.

I can only imagine Opening Day at Shea. Rollins will be booed as lustily as ever, and Beltran may very well get the loudest ovation he's heard in three years in New York. Saturday's proclamation should keep Beltran in the fans' good graces for a month or two, and I expect it will buy him a reprieve when that first slump hits.

Was Rollins even the Phillies' MVP?

This isn't me. I'm not whining here or spitting out sour grapes (or whatever that lame phrase is). Yeah, I thought Jimmy Rollins had an amazing year and seemed to be there in so many clutch situations for the Phillies down the stretch, but he's not even the MVP of the Phillies. That would be Chase Utley, in my mind. But Utley was overlooked because he didn't have the numbers, because he missed a month.

But for those of you into WARP and VORP, this might be interesting.

Personally, I think Rollins won because:

1.) He has a big mouth. He said in January the Phillies were the team to beat, and despite one of the NL's worst pitching staffs, they were.

2.) He plays shortstop.

3.) Voters might have filed their ballots before the final day of the season, and therefore missed Matt Holliday's central role in the Rockies' surge. True, they would've also missed the Mets' collapse, but I don't think Rollins' case was built around that as much. Ryan Howard won last year without the Phillies' reaching the postseason.

What the article also illuminates is the changing definition of "valuable," led by the new and innovative ways of looking at performance and statistics. Batting average and home runs (and wins and ERA) don't tell the whole story anymore, but so long as the voters are two sportswriters in each league city who have been on the baseball beat for two decades, those statistics are going to be the ones that carry the weight. They aren't going to look at VORP or WARP or ballpark factors (and I checked -- Holliday's and Rollins' numbers on the road were pretty similar; both were helped a bit by their home parks but also held up well in the gray unis).

At least with the MVP, "valuable" is part of the definition. The Cy Young Award carries no such caveat, so in some years, the wrong guy wins just because his team reached the postseason or his offense produced a lot of wins. And don't get me started on the Heisman, which has completely lost its luster and meaning and probably hasn't been the same award since they moved the ceremony from the Downtown Athletic Club to Midtown. The Heisman, by definition but not in name, is for the "most outstanding college football player." Not "the most outstanding or valuable player[you could even insert quarterback/running back here] on the best team." Troy Smith wasn't the most outstanding player last year; Darren McFadden was. The most outstanding player this year isn't necessarily a quarterback who throws for 3,000 yards and 30 TDs and leads his team to a BCS game; it's Tim Tebow, the first player IN HISTORY to score 20 TDs each passing and rushing. Or, as ESPN Magazine argued, it's perhaps LSU DT Glenn Dorsey. Sure, Tebow may be a product of Urban Meyer's system, but he still executes against some tough competition -- particularly some fast defenses. I wouldn't knock Colt Brennan (last year) for throwing 58 TDs because of the system (though I would question the competition).

Anyway, enough with the football. I got carried away there. It'll be interesting to see over the years if the baseball awards continue to be based on home runs and wins (Troy Tulowitzki was the most impressive NL rookie in 2007, because he played the field so much -- significantly so -- better than Ryan Braun, who had the worst fielding season for a third baseman in something like 80 years). Or will the new stats -- kind of like the "new math," whatever that was -- take hold and change the way we look at players. When you look at Rollins' OPS -- which seems to be the new stat most accepted into the mainstream -- he was way down at No. 22 in the NL. The top nine were legitimate MVP contenders: Chipper Jones, Prince Fielder, Holliday, Albert Pujols, Howard, Utley, Miguel Cabrera, David Wright and Hanley Ramirez. Ahead of Rollins were guys like Pat Burrell, Corey Hart and, even with him, Jeff Kent.

To end this on a more even note, when you use the question, "Where would [the team] have been without [the player]?" Rollins and Holliday come out pretty closely. Rollins started all 162 games and set a Major League record for plate appearances because the Phillies had no other shortstop. In a pinch, Abraham Nunez would've played there, but he's not much of a shortstop anymore. Rollins also set a Major League record for at-bats in a season because he doesn't walk enough and makes a lot of outs. So if you took him away from the Phillies, they had no shortstop, but you also only took away an .875 OPS.

But if you took Holliday away from the Rockies, you're taking away a 1.012 OPS, not to mention an NL-best 142.2 runs created (Rollins had 133.4, fifth in the league).

Still close, but Holliday seemed more valuable to me.

Managers lay a golden egg

You'd think that the managers and coaches would have a better grasp of the finer aspects of the game. It's the more casual fans and lazy sportswriters who are overwhelmed by the sexiness of home runs and wins. But in this new age of baseball -- of Moneyball and trendy new stats providing a more accurate look than the old standbys, such as batting average -- maybe the old-school on-field guys just can't keep up with the "new math."

I didn't scour the NL Gold Glove Award winners when they were announced the other day. I got my text alert that David Wright and Carlos Beltran had won, and left it at that. But looking at them now, there's one oversight that stands out -- and probably foreshadows similar awards results down the road, though that may not be the case because of the different voting groups. In the NL, there's nothing to complain about in the awards for Russell Martin, Ryan Zimmerman's accomplishments. And Derrek Lee doesn't seem to be quite the glove man that Todd Helton is, but that's not even the biggest upset in the doling out of the awards, in my mind.

Troy Tulowitzki on deck

Look at shortstop, where Jimmy Rollins won the award for some reason over Troy Tulowitzki. It's not even that close. In seven fewer games and nearly 70 fewer innings, Tulo trounced Rollins in total chances (834-717), putouts (262-241, with Rollins' number buoyed by having a Gold Glover in Utley at second base) and assists (561-479). Plus, he made the same number of errors in more than a hundred more chances. And though his fielding percentage was just .002 better than Rollins', Tulo still put up a better mark with a lot more opportunities -- opportunities for mistakes. It's even more impressive when you see the young Rocky's advantage in range factor and zone rating.

So I can only guess that Rollins' bat, his East Coast location, his possition as the prohibitive favorite for NL MVP (which he'd win over another deserving Rocky, Matt Holliday) and his mouth made the difference -- all of which have nothing to do with fielding ability, which is what the Gold Glove should be. (The Rockies' postseason sweep of the Phillies wouldn't have played a factor, because the coaches and managers most likely cast their ballots in the final days of the regular season.)

I fear the same fate will befall Tulo when the NL Rookie of the Year AWard is announced, though it won't be as big a "mistake." Ryan Braun, the likely ROY, is certainly deserving. I just think Tulo had a better all-around season, while Braun attracted attention for his homer binge more than anything else. If the ROY is like the Heisman, Tulo will benefit from the Rockies' late-season run to the playoffs, when he emerged as Colorado's leader and drew some attention his way for being a better well-rounded player.

Better late than never for another Mets opener

Ryan Howard's three-run home run in the sixth inning silenced Shea Stadium. The Mets had just taken a 3-2 lead in the bottom of the fifth despite John Maine's struggles. Willie Randolph turned over the game to the bullpen, starting with Ambiorix Burgos, who got ahead of Howard, 1-2. All he needed to do was keep the ball out of the middle of the plate, fool him with a splitter or an off-speed pitch that would get the struggling, free-swinging NL MVP to chase a pitch.

But Burgos' splitter remained whole over the heart of the plate, right in Howard's wheelhouse, and the big left-hander seemed to flick his bat at it, turning his wrists over effortlessly and driving the ball through a swirling, slicing wind. Shawn Green gave chase in right-center, but it didn't matter.

The Phillies led, 5-3.

Two runs shouldn't be a problem for the Mets, but the fans -- a Shea Opening Day record 56,227 -- sensed the team's funk. Cole Hamels was baffling the Mets with his changeup, even if his fastball barely reached 90 mph on a frigid afternoon. Only John Valentin, who lined a two-run single earlier to give the Mets a 2-1 lead and hit another ball hard and true for a line-out, seemed to have a good read on Hamels. The bottom of the sixth went by quietly and even though the Mets cut it to 5-4 with a run in the seventh, Shea didn't hold the same electricity it would on another day.

Maybe that listlessness was because the seventh produced only one run, despite the heart of the order coming to bat. Maybe David Wright's lineout to end the inning -- on a spectacular diving catch by Shane Victorino in right field -- to strand two runners seemed like the last great hope. After all, our hopes in the eighth would be in the hands of a newcomer in Moises Alou, the seemingly slowing bat of Shawn Green and Valentin.

But the Phillies bullpen is their biggest flaw, and as the team warmed up for the bottom of the eighth, I turned to my friend Dave with a thought.

"You know, a few years ago, Derek Bell got in the fans' good graces with a home run in the eighth to beat the Padres," I said, recalling another cold -- though not this cold -- opener that was tied at 1 when Bell lined a Donne Wall pitch into the bleachers in left field. "Maybe today is Moises' turn."

And it was Alou who got things going with a single to the gap in right-center in the eighth inning. Philadelphia's Aaron Rowand made a diving attempt, but the ball scooted off of his glove. I won't replay the whole inning, because it's easily accessible, but once Alou came to bat again in the inning and delivered a two-run single, Dave and I felt it was an acceptable time to leave our seats, get the blood flowing again in our legs, and start making our way down from the upper deck and toward the exits. We watched from the platform as Billy Wagner fanned two to end it in the ninth, the closer in the game despite an 11-5 score because he had already warmed up when it was merely 6-5.

Making it ever sweeter was Jimmy Rollins' role, the key error on a ball that never would've been a double play with Jose Reyes running down the line. There are some who say it doesn't matter how outs are made -- a strikeout is no worse than a groundout or flyout -- but I'd much rather have Reyes hit a ground ball with the bases loaded and the Mets down by a run than strike out. The chances of turning a double play with Reyes running are slim, and if the fielder doesn't realize that, errors happen. Just ask Rollins. It's only seven games, but seeing the Phillies at 1-6 after Rollins' offseason boasting -- which may come up during each and every series these two teams play -- does make me smile.

The eighth inning brought Shea alive again, the fans breaking the ice on their lungs and cheering each hit, each run and, of course, Rollins. The sing-song chant of "JI-MMY ROLL-INS! JI-MMY ROLL-INS!" began with two outs and continued as he trotted off the field following the final batter of the frame. The fans were smiling again, and the wind seemed to have stopped, even if it was still, technically, swirling. The afternoon felt warm again.

Yesterday's win puts the Mets at 7-1 in the eight straight openers we've attended, the lone loss coming at the hands of the Cubs in 2003, when Corey Patterson hit two homers and drove in seven runs in Tom Glavine's Mets debut. And once again, things look bright after the first game in Queens.

Best infield in the National League?

So here's a question:

Can an infield that includes Wes Helms be considered the best in the National League?

That's the claim made by Jimmy Rollins (either on his own or through prompting by a reporter) on Tuesday.

Look, I won't deny the talents of Ryan Howard and Chase Utley, who clearly make up the best right side of any infield in baseball. But Wes Helms? I'll reserve judgment on this claim until the season's been played -- and Helms has been a full-time starter in a pennant race -- and follow Rollins' logic on his more reasonable claim that the Phillies are the team to beat in the NL East in 2007: "But that's all on paper. You have to go out and do it on the field."

Let's see Helms do it on the field.

However, I guess only the Dodgers and Mets can challenge the Phils for best NL infield, and they've got weaknesses. Los Angeles has Wilson Betemit at third base and the Mets have Jose Valentin at second -- and neither of them was a regular starter in '06, either. If these teams are the top three around the horn in the NL, the Dodgers are clearly third because of the years Nomar Garciaparra and Jeff Kent have on them, while the Phillies' senior infielder is Rollins, who is 28, and the Mets' older players -- Valentin and Carlos Delgado -- don't have the injury issues or the apparent decline (yet) that Kent and Nomar have shown.

As for the Mets and Phillies, New York clearly gets the advantage on the left side of the infield with David Wright and Jose Reyes, who is a better leadoff hitter -- and probably a better hitter, not to mention five years younger -- than Rollins. So the question of who has the best infield in the league comes down to which player is better: Wes Helms or Jose Valentin?

It's a question that will have to be answered in 2007, but for now, on paper, perhaps we'll give Philly a slight edge. Below is a comparison of Valentin's and Helms' 2006 stats (in black). Valentin had 384 at-bats, while Helms compiled 240. The shaded numbers are what each player, at the same rate of production, would have put up with 600 at-bats last season. Valentin hit .271/.330/.490; Helms .329/.390/.575.

	Hits		Runs		2B		HR		RBI		BB		SO
Valentin	104	162	56	87	24	37	18	28	62	96	37	58	71	111
Helms	79	197	30	75	19	47	10	25	47	117	21	52	55	137

Helms' numbers are skewed, though, because he's on a new team with a different lineup and vastly different ballpark. Chances are, he'll hit fewer doubles and more home runs with Citizens Bank Park as his home field rather than Dolphin Stadium. His runs probably won't go up too much, because he'll be hitting low in the Phillies' order and won't necessarily have the studs coming up while he's on base. In any case, the expectation would seem to favor Helms, who is also seven years younger.

However, not only did Valentin put up his numbers over a longer period of time -- meaning he was (and is, on account of a longer career) more accustomed to performing with a regular starting gig. The big question for Helms will be whether he can maintain his pace in August when he's already started 100 games.

It will be interesting to see this NL East race play out. In 2006, the Mets had the division wrapped up in June. The only thing that should be decided this June is that the Nationals will bring up the rear.

Everything else should be determined in September.

Keep it simple, stupid

Today's games should count more than yesterday's, if you ask me. Oh, there are no major-league games today?

My point exactly.

Driving into work this morning, a caller and the host made a point on WFAN about the idiocy known as "This One Counts." (I won't drop this until Major League Baseball does.) No matter how much weight Bud Selig and his minions try to add to the exhibition, the players are never going to treat it like a true game, unless maybe you award the players on each team a cash bonus, paid on the spot, and other incentives -- say, $1,000 handed to them at first base after a single, or $10,000 in crisp hundreds collected while standing on home plate after a home run. Oh, and don't keep secrets like a new Corvette from the players. You'll have more guys trying to be MVPs.

The point made on the radio was that Jim Edmonds, one of the game's most aggressive players, didn't come close to Miguel Tejada in an attempt to break up a double play. Edmonds -- a guy who dives in the outfield at least once every two games, who only takes off a crisp, clean uniform on days when he never left the shade of the dugout -- didn't slide hard into second base. And Edmonds plays for the Cardinals, the NL team most likely to benefit from having home-field advantage in the World Series! No one's ever going to pull a Pete Rose again and run over the catcher in an All-Star Game, for fear of injury to himself and the stigma that would come with ending Jason Varitek's season. Ever.

Managers may run the game a little differently, instituting some signs, attempting steals, starting a hit-and-run, pitching around a player. (The day we see an intentional walk in an All-Star Game -- particularly if it's the only at bat a guy like Miguel Cabrera might get -- will be, on a smaller scale, as horrendous as the Tie of 2002.) But you're never going to get anything more than Torii Hunter leaping to rob Barry Bonds of a home run, because he was there in plenty of time and it wasn't as reckless as crashing into a wall or diving headfirst for a sinking liner in the gap.

There are those who argue that if you're going to have "This One Counts," then you have to have every team represented, but I think it's even more of a reason to abolish that representation rule. If the All-Star Game is for league supremacy and is meant to determine which side gets home-field advantage in the World Series, then each league should have its best players available to help it win. The NL deserved to have Cliff Floyd's relative youth and strong arm over Moises Alou's creaky knees. It deserved to have Marcus Giles available for four or five innings instead of Jeff Kent for one at bat. Keeping the fan voting is more important to me than home-field advantage, and how can you justify the fans' collective whim with making the game matter? Carlos Beltran and Edmonds didn't deserve to start over Miguel Cabrera and Andruw Jones, but the fans wanted to see them.

Clearly, the game doesn't count to guys like Gary Sheffield, who in the past only went to represent the Dodgers if they paid for his family to join him, or to Pedro Martinez. (As a Mets fan, I'm more happy that Pedro rested for the games that really count -- Sunday against the Braves -- than I would have been seeing him throw an inning against Miguel Tejada, Vladimir Guerrero and Mark Teixeira. Which he would've gotten through unscathed, which is more than I can say for John Smoltz.) Besides, I already saw him face Vlad in the lesser idiocy of interleague play.

I still love the All-Star Game. I like seeing all the different uniforms on the same field together. I like watching players from different teams chatting in the dugout. I love seeing Jimmy Rollins pretend to care enough to ask Luis Castillo where the Marlins start the second half of the season ("Are you at home?") only to have Castillo shake his head, smile, and point to the "Phillies" on Rollins' chest. "Oh, you're at our place?!" Rollins realized. But you're never going to get the players to play harder than they do now, and to use "This Time It Counts" as a failsafe to ensure there's never another tie is as ridiculous as the car salesman's suit Selig wore during his ESPN interview during the home run derby. Just tell the managers they have to save some pitchers in case the game is tied, and if one team runs out of hurlers while the score is still even, then that league loses the game. They won't run out then.

If David Stern told NBA players that the winning side of the league's midseason exhibition got home-court advantage in the finals, they still wouldn't play defense -- they'd just try to win 150-140. If the NHL ... oh, who cares? It's just that I don't see a difference in how the game is played. There's a miniscule difference in how it's managed, but nobody goes to a baseball game to see the managers' strategies played out. They want to see pitchers pitch and hitters hit.

That's what counts.