Can Acting Like A Cock Increase Your Value?

The following is a baseball story:

The South Carolina Gamecocks lead the Nebraska Cornhuskers 16-13 late in the third quarter of the Credit Card Company Bowl in Orlando when a hockey game breaks out between South Carolina's standout wide receiver, Alshon Jeffrey, and a Nebraska Corn(husk)erback of significantly less note. The pair gets ejected, much to the Gamecocks' detriment.

Before being yanked, Jeffrey supplies the signature play of the game, leaping over a crowd to snare a desperation heave and then diving into the end zone as the half ends.

Following Jeffrey's outburst, the Gamecocks promptly march down the field and register a touchdown to take a 23-13 lead. Their defense clamps down the rest of the way, sacking the Husker QB six times and leading the 'Cocks to a 30-13 victory.

During the post-game celebration, Jeffrey is allowed back onto the field to -- what?!!!! -- claim his most valuable player trophy! This obscenity draws the immediate ire of all at my sports bar table but one. He argues that, because Jeffrey accounted for 148 yards and the go-ahead score, he's a perfectly legitimate candidate.

Let's set aside the salient issue -- that no one committing such an offense should be eligible for an award in the first place. Instead, I engaged my friend in the following discussion:

Waldo: Once Jeffrey left the game, South Carolina scored twice and held Nebraska scoreless without any contribution from him. How is he then valuable?

Friend: They were ahead when he left. He put them there.

Waldo: If instead, the South Carolina drive had stalled, Nebraska scratched out a touchdown and the game had ended 20-16 Nebraska, would Jeffrey be the MVP?

Friend: Of course not, but that's not what happened.

Waldo: So according to you, Alshon Jeffrey is the MVP because for 20 minutes while he wasn't allowed on the field, his teammates dominated the game. Had they struggled without him, he would not be the MVP.

Others at the table: Hahahahaha.

This, of course, is exactly the logic employed by nearly every MVP voter in baseball. According to most baseball writers with votes, Ryan Braun was the NL MVP because he had better teammates than Matt Kemp, whose performance clearly, though marginally, surpassed Braun's. It's also a long-running theme in MVP votes, often expressed this way: they could have finished fourth without him.

At the risk of disinterring a long-deceased horse, a player contributes, by dint of his play on the field, a certain number of wins to his team. Whether those are wins 63-68, 85-90 or 103-108 is a function of others, not him, and therefore immaterial to the determination of his value.

The parallel between Braun's MVP and Jeffrey's is even more poignant given reports of Braun's failed drug tests. Evidently, being a knucklehead does not diminish a player's value, regardless of his sport.
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