How NOT to build a case for MVP candidates

Amar'e Stoudemire has made the Knicks relevant again, but that shouldn't be the basis of his MVP candidacy. (AP)

I like when M. Haubs at The Painted Area gets a little feisty, and he’s feisty this morning in batting down the arguments some folks are using to back the MVP candidacies of Amar’e Stoudemire and Derrick Rose.

Haubs excerpts an anonymous scout’s take featured in Marc Stein’s Weekend Dime at ESPN. com:

“[T]he most valuable player as we get to the midpoint is Amare Stoudemire. He’s rejuvenated the whole city of New York. They’ve stumbled a little bit here lately, but he’s putting up huge numbers and he’s got all the cab drivers talking about the Knicks and he’s proven he doesn’t need Steve Nash to be a great player.”

Take it away, Haubs:

Awesome. Getting the New York cabbies talking is a new MVP criterion to me, but apparently doing that and taking a team from 29 wins to 44 wins and a 6 seed makes you the MVP.

And, a bit more from Haubs on Amar’e:

That’s what most bizarre about the current Amar’e MVP fetish: normally the MVP discussion focuses obsessively on W-L record, yet this year many are rushing to bestow the honor on a guy leading his team to the 14th-best record in the league, because the storyline of leading the Knicks from a decade of complete irrelevancy to being halfway decent is the warmest and fuzziest.

Haubs next turns to Rick Reilly’s piece arguing for Rose as the midseason MVP. Here is part of Reilly’s argument:

He’s my MVP so far, not just for the way he’s carried the limping Chicago Bulls the way Penn’s carried Teller. And not just for the way he jumps like a frog bred with a kangaroo. And not just for the way he scores, defends and passes like he’s going to the electric chair tomorrow. He’s my MVP for moments like this:

Three young fans are walking alone after leaving the United Center. They’re the last to go, so they’re all alone. A white SUV pulls up next to them. This part of Chicago could use a shave and a clean shirt, so somebody rolling up on you isn’t usually happy news. The young men try not to look. The window comes down and who is behind it but Derrick Rose himself, The Heir to Air.

Their mouths fall unhinged.

“Hey, man, just want to thank you guys for taking time to come out,” Rose says. “Really appreciate it.”

Their voice boxes go mute.

“And thanks for wearin’ my jersey, too!” Rose says to one of them.

And Haubs, incredulous:

I mean, if you want to choose the MVP based on doing good things for the kids, that’s cool. I choose to focus more on, you know, who the most valuable basketball player is.

Now, Reilly does get into a basketball-related argument for Rose later in the piece; he essentially says Rose has carried the Bulls to an elite record with a shaky supporting cast, while Dwyane Wade and LeBron James have each other and Stoudemire’s team is suddenly floundering around .500.

And that’s the key here. If you want to argue for Rose or Stoudemire — or anyone — for MVP, make an argument based on what’s actually happening on the court and (if you have any real insight, which few do) in the locker room. I live in New York City, and that anonymous scout is absolutely right that people are talking about the Knicks in a positive light for the first time in ages. When I meet people and exchange the obligatory introductory information about where we live and what we do for work, casual fans politely seeking to make conversation will always – always — say something like, “Hey, nice to have the Knicks back, huh?”

And that’s wonderful. I like basketball, I like New York and I like that people in New York are talking about basketball.

But that does not make Stoudemire the MVP, and to suggest it does is ridiculous. You can build a case for Stoudemire if you’d like, but you have to, you know, build it. You can watch games to see the impact of his pick-and-roll finishing ability. Talk about his insane fourth-quarter scoring numbers. Discuss New York’s improvement on offense this season and how Stoudemire has helped Raymond Felton’s career. Conveniently ignore Stoudemire’s so-so defense. Point out that he does not have the same level supporting case as Dwight Howard or LeBron.

But don’t give me anecdotes about cab drivers and cocktail parties and rejuvenation — or about young kids getting a glimpse of their hero after a game. That’s not good enough.