The Lion in Winter

No, I'm not talking about John McCain, I'm talking about Carlos Delgado. After all, if Rachel Maddow has to be talked off the ledge, it's time to turn to the spiritual life, which as anyone who's seen Bull Durham knows, is baseball.

I've long had a soft spot for Carlos Delgado, largely because of his political courage and his history of humanitarian work and activism for peace. It was no small thing in 2004 when, as a member of the Toronto Blue Jays, he stayed in the dugout during the playing of God Bless America during the seventh inning stretch in a July game against the Yankees. You could criticize it as an empty, unnecessarily inflammatory gesture -- the kind of gesture that Democratic politicians don't dare to make, lest Chris Matthews and Charlie Gibson say mean things. But Delgado simply stated what has now become a fairly mainstream view:

"It's a very terrible thing that happened on September 11. It's (also) a terrible thing that happened in Afghanistan and Iraq. I just feel so sad for the families that lost relatives and loved ones in the war. But I think it's the stupidest war ever. Who are you fighting against? You're just getting ambushed now. We have more people dead now, after the war, than during the war. You've been looking for weapons of mass destruction. Where are they at? You've been looking for over a year. Can't find them. I don't support that. I don't support what they do. I think it's just stupid."

Today, outside of those who think they're going to get a chance to nail Sarah Palin and have decided to support the Endless War agenda of John McCain, this is hardly a controversial view at this point. We now know that nothing has been done in terms of actual national security, but a great deal has done to make the world less stable. And this baseball player knew it in 2004.

Delgado doesn't just talk the talk, though, he also walks the walk. He took an active role in the protests against the use of Vieques, P.R. for U.S. bombing target practice in 2003. He brings toys to hospitalized children in his Puerto Rico hometown on Three Kings Day every year. He provided videoconferencing equipment to his hometown's hospital so it could communicate with doctors in Boston. He's been awarded, in 2006, the Roberto Clemente Award for exemplifying humanitarianism and sportsmanship. And oh, yes -- having made his point, he now stands for the singing of "God Bless America."

Here's Delgado teaching a class on "Mental Preparation for Athletes" in Santurce, Puerto Rico on November 8, 2007:

And did I mention that he's also gorgeous?

Earlier this season, it was easy to hate Carlos Delgado. As his batting average hovered around the .200 mark, and the lackluster Mets under the laconic Willie Randolph looked to be sinking slowly and painfully in the National League East, it was easy to figure that Delgado was done; that at age 36, with the injuries and the slow bat speed and the attitude, it was time to cut ties with Delgado as quickly as possible and look towards the future.

That was then.

This is now.

Under interim manager Jerry Manuel (who has, in my opinion, done the kind of work with this team that warrants at least a 2-year contract to stay on), Delgado has looked like the Delgado of old. He's raised his average to an incredibly productive .266, with 35 home runs and 103 runs batted in -- extraordinary statistics when you take into account his dismal first-half production. Whenever you see the Mets dig in their heels and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat -- something they just did not do in the first few months of the season, Delgado is right there. Last night, with Ollie Perez looking like the Pittsburgh Ollie Perez instead of the New York Ollie Perez, Delgado smacked two home runs to help the Mets to a 10-8 win.

Now instead of the boos that met him earlier in the season, Delgado comes to the plate to chants of "MVP! MVP!" With Billy Wagner out for the season, and perhaps for his career, the role of "closer" may not be filled from the Mets' always-suspect bullpen, but from the aging first baseman with the social conscience.