The National League Cy Young Award and the Power of the Repeat

Depending on what the top three candidates do in their final starts of 2009, the National League Cy Young announcement could be one of the most acrimonious days in recent Major League Baseball history.

If current trends hold, the voters will be hard-pressed to find much solid differential amongst the three primary candidates and that means die-hard fans in St. Louis or San Francisco will be taking to the cyber/airwaves with misplaced venom.

Tim Lincecum's edge has been just a touch off lately, Chris Carpenter is throwing better than the Freak, yet isn't getting much help from his normally potent offense, and Adam Wainwright is arguably throwing the best while enjoying ample run support.

This won't be a thorough statistical comparison. As close as such an exercise is with only seven games on the slate, might as well just wait for the final results. There'll be plenty o' time for that...

However, I do think the pole position is still Lincecum's to lose, even in a purely numerical universe.

The Franchise leads in everything except wins, earned run average, and WHIP, and the deficits in the two meaningful metrics of that trio are negligible. The San Francisco Giants' ace blows the other two out of the water in whiffs to go along with his own slights leads in various other categories of note.

Granted, the hollowness of wins takes on some density if Wainwright notches that 20th pelt. Baseball has always been a game of magical round numbers and even I won't discount that "20-game-winner" ring in the ears of the aforementioned voters.

Frankly, unless Tiny Tim throws a clanker in his last trip to the hill against the Arizona Diamondbacks, I can see Wainwright finishing second, with Carp in tow should he notch the big two-zero. I'm not saying that makes sense, I'm just saying it could very much be the eventual reality.

But I promised this wasn't about the stats.

This is about a different reason Tim Lincecum should win his second NL Cy Young in as many years. Those would be his first two full-years for those scoring at home.

Another one of the Show's time-honored and time-tested canons is that repeating a profound achievement is damn near impossible.

If you believe the Majors have always found a unique power and beauty in certain numbers, then you must also accept that the difficulty of stringing exceptional seasons in a row cannot be understated.

Whether it be division crowns, league pennants, World Series championships, or the individual stuff like Most Valuable Players and (yes) Cy Youngs.

Check out this list:  Sandy Koufax, Jim Palmer, Roger Clemens, Greg Maddux, Pedro Martinez, and Randy Johnson.

Those are the only hurlers to have nabbed consecutive Cy Youngs in either league since the honor was created in 1956.

Koufax repeated when there was but one award for all of baseball (a period that lasted until 1967) while Clemens accomplished the feat twice, but took a decade to rest in between. Some will tell you the Rocket was perfecting a new kind of fuel in the interim and I can't say logic is against them.

Most impressively, Mad Dog and the Big Unit each put a clamp on the thing for FOUR consecutive years—from 1992-1995 and 1999-2002, respectively.

It should also be noted that Denny McLain technically pulled it off, but his second win was a tie and those are abhorred by the Beautiful Game as much as the magical elements are revered. So I think that keeps him out of this particular discussion.

Regardless, you take that sextet above and many astute observers of the diamond would argue you have a good start on the best ten pitchers to ever grace a professional mound in the modern era.

Each ace's ability to be the absolute best in his respective league—and, in the Man with the Golden Arm's case, all of baseball—is no small part of his considerable reputation.

Fans and analysts love to talk about "wearing the bull's-eye."

For good reason—the supreme talents that populate the professional ranks are accompanied by supreme ego as well as pride. When The Best come to town or they go to it, the guys who get paid to play seem to take it as a personal insult.

At the very least, they seem to take it as a unique and exciting challenge.

This is especially the case in the 162-game monotony of a Major League season. I'm sure the veterans stop seeing faces and names on uniforms at some point—the opponents just become a constant blur of the "other."

Until, that is, the reigning this-or-that crosses their paths. Then, the ears perk up and the stares get a little harder as the focus sharpens. Maybe they just don't want to get shown up, but I think it's that they want to beat the top-dog at his own craft.

Which means the Freak's statistical brilliance—arguably the most blinding from any perspective already—should take on a whole new luster in the eyes of you non-believers.

The kid is having a two-year run the likes of which I've never seen this closely and it is an outrageous marvel to behold.

We can only hope Tim Lincecum finishes his 2009 season with a splendid flourish so that everyone—St. Louis Cardinal fans included—can appreciate him as much as San Francisco does.

At least for a day.

**www.pva.org**