The entire point in assembling a good team is so that someone might get hot during the post-season. It really does not matter who they are.
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I wonder if the "need certainty/need a keystone player" attitude we sometimes see toward baseball isn't a product of gambling, or influx from other sports. There, you want predictability and very uneven competition. You build teams around dominant players. The fantasy is that Brady keeps going to Gronk forever.
But baseball's not really like that. Sure, one key player will anchor a rotation or a lineup, but it's hard to build a championship team out of a pair of superstars and a bunch of scrubs. (Occasionally competitive I'll grant you.)
It's singularly weird to me that so many do not ride the wave of the surprising single season anymore. (Basically the 2021-does-not-count crowd.) Those guys seem to desperately want to know, on a graph, who will do what ahead of time, so they can sort of vicariously participate in promoting an athlete (or team), spending money and time to "be there" when the predicted thing happened, then claiming afterward they were there. It's a weird kind of hero-fetish narrative, with a side of lazy fandom. Like the fan imagines someone will actually give a shit 20 years from now as they fantasize about saying, "I was there, I was always right about Meyer, and I saw his first hit, and from there the Sox were a powerhouse Dynasty - let me tell you about his WAR curve." Well, la-de-fucking-da Grandpa.
For me the best things are the surprises. I'll take a 2013 over a 2018 in a heartbeat. An improbably-rebounding Victorino and an almost-out-of-nowhere Koji please.