Major League Baseball MVP: What Most People Get Wrong

Major League Baseball MVP: What Most People Get Wrong

Honestly, the Major League Baseball MVP award is a mess. It's the most prestigious individual honor in the sport, yet nobody can actually agree on what it means. We’ve been doing this since 1931—well, the BBWAA version at least—and the criteria are still as blurry as a 100-mph fastball on a humid July night.

Is it about the best stats? Is it about the guy who carried a mediocre team to the playoffs? Or is it just about who had the most "narrative" juice?

The 2025 season just wrapped up, and the results were a perfect example of why this award keeps us yelling at each other in sports bars and on social media. In the National League, Shohei Ohtani won his fourth MVP. He did it unanimously. Again. That’s four for him now, and every single one has been by a unanimous vote. It’s getting a little ridiculous, right? But then you look at the American League, and Aaron Judge grabbed his third trophy, beating out Cal Raleigh in a race that was way tighter than anyone expected.

The Ohtani Paradox and the 2025 Smoke

Most people think the MVP is a "Best Player" award. If it were, Mike Trout would probably have seven of them and Ohtani might never lose again until his knees give out. But "Value" is a tricky word.

In 2025, Ohtani wasn't just hitting; he was back on the mound. After missing a year of pitching due to that elbow surgery, he came back in June and started carving people up again. He struck out 62 guys in 47 innings. Meanwhile, at the plate, he put up a 1.014 OPS with 55 homers.

You’ve got guys like Kyle Schwarber hitting 56 bombs for the Phillies, or Juan Soto (fresh off that massive $765 million contract) leading the league in steals and putting up elite numbers. They didn't stand a chance. When one guy is an elite closer-level pitcher and the league's best power hitter at the same time, the "Value" conversation basically ends.

But here’s what people get wrong: the "Most Valuable" tag doesn't mean you have to be on a winning team. The rules explicitly state the MVP doesn't need to come from a playoff qualifier. We saw that with Andre Dawson back in '87 when the Cubs finished last. Yet, voters still gravitate toward the winners. It's a bias that's hard to shake.

The 2025 AL Race: The "Big Dumper" vs. The Captain

The American League race was a different beast entirely. Aaron Judge won, sure. He hit .331—the tallest batting champ ever, which is a wild stat—and crushed 53 homers.

But Cal Raleigh, the Mariners' catcher known as "Big Dumper," almost pulled off the upset. He hit 60 home runs. Let that sink in. A catcher hit sixty homers while starting nearly 120 games behind the plate.

The vote was 17 to 13 in terms of first-place votes. That’s the closest we’ve seen since 2019. It sparked a massive debate: what’s more valuable? A right fielder with a .457 on-base percentage, or a catcher who hits 60 home runs and manages the best pitching staff in the league?

Judge won because his "rate" stats were better. His 1.145 OPS was in another stratosphere. But for a few weeks in November, it really felt like the "narrative" of the Mariners finally making a deep run behind Raleigh might tip the scales.

Why the Triple Crown Doesn't Guarantee Anything

If you want to see how weird the major league baseball mvp history is, look at Ted Williams.

The guy won the Triple Crown in 1942. He led the league in everything. And he lost. He lost to Joe Gordon, a second baseman for the Yankees. Why? Because the writers basically thought Williams was a jerk and Gordon was a "winner."

Then it happened again in 1947. Williams won another Triple Crown. He lost by one single point to Joe DiMaggio. There’s a famous story that a Boston writer left Williams off the ballot entirely to spite him. It turns out that story might be a bit of a myth—Williams pushed it in his autobiography—but the fact remains: stats aren't everything.

How the Voting Actually Works (The Nerd Stuff)

The BBWAA (Baseball Writers' Association of America) handles the voting. Two writers from every city with a team get a ballot. That’s 30 voters per league.

They use a weighted system:

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  • 1st place: 14 points
  • 2nd place: 9 points
  • 3rd place: 8 points
  • ...and so on down to 1 point for 10th.

This is why a 10th-place vote actually matters. In 1947, if Williams had just gotten one 10th-place vote from that missing writer, he would have tied DiMaggio.

The "War" Over WAR

Nowadays, voters are obsessed with WAR (Wins Above Replacement). It's a catch-all stat that tries to measure everything—baserunning, defense, hitting—into one number.

It’s changed the game.

In the old days, a guy like Miguel Tejada could win (2002) because he had 131 RBIs and his team won a bunch of games, even if Alex Rodriguez was clearly the better individual player that year. Today? A-Rod wins that 10 out of 10 times. The "eye test" is losing ground to the "spreadsheet test."

But even WAR has limits. It struggles to account for things like "leadership" or how a catcher handles a pitching staff. That’s why the Cal Raleigh vs. Aaron Judge debate was so fierce. Raleigh’s "value" was partially invisible to the formulas, but very visible to anyone watching the Mariners.

Common Misconceptions About the MVP

  1. "It’s a playoff award." Nope. Ballots are submitted before the first pitch of the postseason. If a guy hitting .400 in the regular season chokes in the ALCS, it doesn't matter. The MVP is already decided.
  2. "Pitchers have their own award, so they shouldn't win MVP." This is a huge point of contention. Pitchers have the Cy Young, yes. But they are still "players." If a pitcher is more valuable than any hitter, they should win. Justin Verlander (2011) and Clayton Kershaw (2014) proved it can be done, but it takes a historic season to convince the hitters-only crowd.
  3. "DHs can't win." Shohei Ohtani killed this myth in 2024. He won the NL MVP as a full-time DH while he was recovering from surgery. If you hit 54 homers and steal 59 bases, people stop caring that you don't own a glove.

The Evolution of the Trophy

The actual trophy is named after Kenesaw Mountain Landis. He was the first commissioner of baseball. There’s been some talk lately about changing the name because of Landis's complicated history with integration, but for now, that’s the name on the plaque.

Winners also get a nice little bonus. Most star players have "award bonuses" written into their contracts. For example, Kyle Schwarber pocketed an extra $50,000 just for finishing second in 2025. Juan Soto got $150,000 for third. When you're making $50 million a year, it's pocket change, but it's a nice perk for the younger guys or the "snubbed" finalists.

Real Talk: Does it Still Matter?

With all the new awards like the Hank Aaron Award (best hitter) and the Gold Glove, you'd think the MVP would lose its luster.

It hasn't.

Ask Aaron Judge. He’s now on the "Mount Rushmore" of Yankees, joined with DiMaggio, Mantle, and Berra as the only three-time winners in pinstripes. Ask Ohtani, who is chasing Barry Bonds’ record of seven.

The MVP is about legacy. It’s the difference between being a "great player" and being a "Hall of Famer."

Actionable Insights for Fans and Bettors

If you’re trying to predict the 2026 major league baseball mvp, or if you're just looking to win an argument at the office, keep these specific triggers in mind:

  • Look for the 10.0 WAR threshold: In the last decade, if a position player hits 10 WAR, they almost always win, unless someone else also hits it and has a better "story."
  • Watch the "Narrative" Shift: If a player on a big-market team (Yankees, Dodgers, Mets) is having a career year, they have a natural 5-10% edge in visibility with voters.
  • The "Two-Way" Factor: As long as Ohtani is pitching and hitting at an elite level, he is the default favorite. To beat him, a hitter needs to do something historic—like Judge’s 62 homers or Raleigh’s 60-homer catcher season.
  • Check the Injury History: Voters hate "what ifs." If a guy plays 130 games instead of 155, he’s likely losing the top spot, even if his per-game stats are better.

The MVP race isn't a science. It’s a 162-game soap opera that ends with a group of writers trying to define the word "value." And honestly? That's what makes it the best award in sports.

To stay ahead of the next race, start tracking the "Statcast" metrics like Barrel % and Hard Hit rate by mid-May; these are the leading indicators that tell you who is actually dominant before the traditional stats catch up. Pay close attention to guys like Bobby Witt Jr. or Gunnar Henderson—they represent the next wave of "all-around" value that the modern voter craves.