Zack Grienke rightfully and overwhelmingly won this year’s American League Cy Young award, the results of which were announced yesterday. The only only other pitcher in the conversation should have been Felix Hernandez, so you’d expect a writer from Detroit to vote for one of the two of those pitchers, right? This is baseball, of course not. From Mlive’s Steve Kornacki:
Hernandez finished with two first-place votes. The final first-place vote, the vote I cast, went to Tigers starter Justin Verlander.
Verlander received my first-place vote because nobody was tougher on the mound with the season on the line for his team.
He threw at least 120 pitches in six of his last eight outings and won his last three starts, forcing a one-game playoff against the Minnesota Twins with his final victory.
What’s the point of an award if the voters are going to make up their own criteria for who should win? Last time I checked, the Cy Young went to the league’s best pitcher, not the best pitcher during a three-game stretch. Verlander received only one first-place vote, and it was from Detroit’s Kornacki. I’ve got nothing against Verlander, but Jesus Christ, Steve. His “justification” for the vote is a joke; I’d be less upset if he had simply written, “I’m from Detroit and I wanted to vote for the home town guy. The end.”
I’m not telling anyone how to vote, and it’s damn refreshing to see that the voters have started to shy away from wins as a measuring stick for pitchers’ success. But when someone totally neglects an astonishing season for the sake of giving a vote to “his guy,” that person probably shouldn’t have a vote.
I was going to vote for Pujols for the NL MVP, but Hanley Ramirez had like four awesome games in a row at one point. Plus Fredi Gonzalez called him a “horse.” The Marlins almost made the playoffs, and Hanley plays for my home town, so he gets my vote. Sure Pujols had a better season overall, but I cherry-picked four crucial games as a way of justifiying my absurd pick. I like to wear my mother’s makeup and jewelry.
