Pablo Sandoval Is the National League MVP

Last year at Arlington Stadium, Pablo Sandoval watched from the dugout as his San Francisco Giants closed to within one out of winning their first ever World Series title.  

When Brian Wilson slung a fastball past Nelson Cruz to clinch the series, Pablo was one of the first ones that came pouring out of the dugout to greet “the bearded one” on the mound. Although he had hardly played in the postseason, he was a big part of the celebration on the field and in the locker room, bouncing around like a nine-year-old in a ball pit and spraying champagne the same way he sprays hits to every corner of the baseball diamond.  

This was a team that he had grown with over the past three years, learned their customs, embraced their rituals and yes, eaten their food.  There were enough heroes on the team to write a Greek Odyssey, but there was only one Panda, one kid who could ignite the orange and black faithful at AT&T Park with one crazy swing of his bat.

Just two innings earlier,  Sandoval’s replacement, Edgar Renteria—an aging 35-year-old hitting sage who had only played 90 total games over two seasons—blasted a three-run homer off of Cliff Lee to give the Giants a lead that they would not relinquish.

Edgar was named the World Series MVP, and deservedly so.

But Pablo was the MVP in waiting, a 24-year-old who displayed flashes of brilliance ever since arriving in San Francisco from his home in Puerta Cabello, Venezuela. He had proven a year earlier that he was a future batting champion and a home run slugger.

His sophomore slump was merely a speed bump to those who really knew him, understood his talent level, the awesome stroke he used to drill evasive pitches down the chalk line—on either side of the field.

There was a magnet in Pablo’s bat that attracted baseballs.

The return to glory was only 50 pounds or so away.

He was The Once and Future King.

Bruce Bochy recognized the potential in his third baseman and threatened to demote him to the minors if he didn’t drop weight in the offseason. This tough love approach really wasn’t necessary. Sandoval was eager to dazzle, even if it meant giving up his morning visits to IHOP. He came to Spring Training looking less like Tony Gwyn and more like Willy Tavarez.

The irony is that he’s swinging a lot more like the San Diego legend these days. He’s leading the Giants in almost every statistical category, including home runs and extra-base hits despite missing six weeks with a broken wrist.

His free swinging approach at the plate has turned him into a hitting machine that has piloted his team through some of their roughest stretches this season.

It couldn’t have come at a better time.

The Giants have had their meddle tested in nearly every inning they've played this season. They've been hit with a tempest of injuries that has left their offense and their bullpen in shambles. But their resolve has never been stronger, and their star player has never relented in the face of all the chaos.

Pablo has taken the load on his shoulders and carried his team to postseason relevance. He’s played through every injury and discomfort imaginable, even abandoning the right side of the plate so he can play on a sore wrist. He’s expanded his strike zone by about 10 feet, not allowing teams to pitch around him to neutralize the Giants’ fragile offense.

MVPs are often awarded to players with the best stats on a postseason team. That only makes partial sense. They should  be given to the player that makes the biggest difference to his team everyday on the grass and in the batter's box. 

Their absence affects everyone—including the fans.

I don’t care how many people say that Kobe Bryant is better than LeBron James. The Lakers would not have lost 63 games if Kobe had left the team.

Case in point, Sandoval might have saved the Giants season last Sunday against the Astros. A sweep against the worst team in baseball would have had the world champs in a fetal position looking for a ventilator. After going hitless in his first four at-bats, Pablo took over the game in the ninth.

He made Fernando Rodriguez throw about 45 pitches before hitting a sharp comebacker off the mound for an infield single. His AB seemed to tire Rodriguez, who walked Aubrey Huff to load the bases for the second straight inning. Nate Schierholtz promptly ended the rally, swinging at the first pitch and flying out to shallow right.  

In the bottom of the inning, the Astros had two runners on with nobody out when Jose Altuve laid down a squibbler that Sandoval fielded barehanded and fired with a snap throw to nail Altuve by a step. Later in the inning, he blocked an errant pickoff throw from Chris Stewart which would have scored the winning run from third.

Then in the 11^th with one on and two out, he decided that getting on base wasn’t enough so he homered to the opposite field. And for a little extra measure, he scooped up a slowly hit groundball on the run and gunned down Jason Bourgeois for the final out of the game.

Until then it had been the Brandon Belt show. The Texan had four hits to entertain the hometown crowd—one of them was a 450-foot moonshot that gave the Giants an early 3-0 lead.

There’s something about this rookie that is so eerily reminiscent of my childhood hero, Will Clark. The hitting stance that allows him  to extend the bat at a perfect 120 degree angle, the power to launch a pitch twenty rows into the right field stands with a half swing and a gorgeous looking stroke that he always finishes with a casual drop of the bat.

Another October run would be worth it just to watch this kid take more ABs.

But there isn’t anyone else I’d rather have at the plate in the late innings of a game than Sandoval.

He wants to get back to the postseason.

So do I.

There's a lot left to be desired after seeing what he's accomplished ever since he squeezed into that black and white jersey and donned that dirty helmet.

He congratulated Renteria in the World Series after he was named the MVP.

I have a feeling Renteria told him this: "Te toca a ti nino"

You're next kid.