Joe Posnanski writes what I was thinking.

A few days late with the link, but this is exactly what I was thinking ... except, of course, I hadn't conducted the historical research:

"Up to that point, Verlander had pitched six innings and allowed two runs. Even if you ignore No. 1 and No. 2 -- THAT was supposed to make me reconsider Verlander as an MVP? Six innings, two runs? Of course, by the time I actually saw the message, Verlander had given up two more runs -- a walk, a hit-by-pitch and a double by Brett Gardner scored those two runs. That made seven innings, four runs. Sure: Can you send me back my MVP ballot?

This was a disappointing start by Verlander -- I don't really see how you could see it any other way. Sure, he had dazzling moments. Sure, he struck out 11. Sure, he was fun to watch. He's always fun to watch. And anytime a pitcher in 2011 goes eight innings, you tip your cap. But when a pitcher gives up four runs in eight innings (which is what Verlander did), he usually loses. Since 2001, pitchers who go eight innings and give up four runs in the regular season are 44-86. You want the stat of the day? In the history of the postseason, before Verlander, pitchers who allowed four runs in eight innings were -- get ready for it -- 1-14.

And yet, it sure seemed like everybody kept on clinging to the 'what a stunning and amazing performance by Verlander' story line. It seemed like, based on what people on TV were saying and what some people on the Internet were writing, that Verlander had just thrown an 18-strikeout, one-hit shutout against the '27 Yankees.Tom Verducci interviewed Verlander like he was the clear-cut hero. More people messaged me to make their after-the-bell Verlander for MVP case. The announcers and analysts went on and on about the guts, the courage, the fortitude of Justin Brooks Verlander. It was plain weird."