Sources claim that if Luis Arraez wins the Champions bat for the fourth time, he could steal the MVP award.

Luis Arraez, the Miami Marlins’ contact-hitting phenomenon, has quietly turned into one of Major League Baseball’s most consistent and fascinating players. While the league often spotlights power hitters and flamethrowers, Arraez operates under a different model—one rooted in discipline, bat control, and old-school hitting excellence. As of late, a number of analysts and insiders have speculated that should Arraez win the batting title (or “Champions bat”) for a fourth time, he could be in line to claim an MVP award—potentially “stealing” it from flashier, more traditional frontrunners. This is more than just an idle thought experiment; it’s a genuine conversation about how value is perceived in the modern game and whether a throwback hitter like Arraez can defy expectations and statistical norms to earn one of baseball’s most coveted individual honors.

Winning one batting title is impressive. Winning two solidifies a player’s skill. Winning three puts them in elite company. But a fourth? That’s where Luis Arraez stands now—a contact hitter with surgical precision and a batting average that rarely dips below .330 for an entire season. He’s already claimed batting titles in both the American and National Leagues, a feat not many can claim. His approach to hitting—one that prizes contact over power, placement over launch angle, and consistency over volatility—is increasingly rare in a game that’s become obsessed with exit velocity, home runs, and WAR (Wins Above Replacement). Yet it’s precisely this unique profile that makes Arraez such an intriguing MVP candidate.

To understand how Arraez could “steal” the MVP, one needs to understand what MVP voters value. Traditionally, the MVP has gone to players who not only perform at elite levels statistically, but who also provide irreplaceable value to their team’s success. In many years, this has meant big home run totals, RBI numbers, or all-around dominance on both sides of the ball. Think Mookie Betts, Shohei Ohtani, Bryce Harper, or Mike Trout. These are five-tool players with broad appeal. But there have been exceptions. Think back to Ichiro Suzuki’s 2001 MVP season. Ichiro, a similarly styled player, didn’t lead the league in home runs or RBIs. Instead, he captured the imagination of voters with his dazzling speed, elite defense, and league-best batting average. He changed the game with his bat-to-ball skills, and voters rewarded him accordingly. Arraez, while not as fast or defensively elite as Ichiro was in his prime, could build a similar narrative arc—particularly if he again leads the league in batting average, on-base percentage, and hits while helping push the Marlins into contention.

The case for Arraez hinges on several factors beyond just batting average. While it’s true that batting average alone is no longer the definitive stat it once was, it still carries weight—especially when it’s as historically high as Arraez’s has been. His .354 average in 2023 led all of MLB, and he flirted with .400 for the first half of that season. What separates Arraez isn’t just his ability to get hits; it’s the type of hits he gets. He rarely strikes out—posting one of the lowest strikeout rates in modern baseball—and makes contact on pitches outside the zone with uncanny regularity. He’s essentially a modern-day Tony Gwynn, operating in an era where few hitters care about batting average or two-strike approach.

If Arraez were to win his fourth batting title, especially if he maintains an average near or above .340, he would be entering hallowed ground. Only a handful of players in baseball history have won four or more batting titles, and nearly all are in the Hall of Fame or on their way. If that title comes with league leads in OBP or hits, and he’s playing an everyday role for a Marlins team that’s in playoff contention, voters could be swayed. The MVP is not purely about raw power or defensive metrics—it’s about narrative and value. Arraez could represent a shift in how we view value, particularly in an age where strikeouts are up, and contact is increasingly rare.

Moreover, in an MVP race, context is everything. If other frontrunners falter—if someone like Mookie Betts misses time with injury, or if a slugger like Matt Olson posts gaudy numbers but his team underperforms—the door opens wider for a candidate like Arraez. Voter fatigue also plays a role. If a player like Ronald Acuña Jr. or Shohei Ohtani has already won recently, some voters may lean toward a new face or a unique narrative. Arraez could provide that fresh perspective: the underdog who succeeds not through brute force, but by mastering the fundamentals of hitting.

It’s also important to note the shift in how some voters are thinking about WAR and value. For years, WAR has been the MVP cheat code—often dictating who is “most deserving.” But there’s a growing recognition that WAR doesn’t always tell the full story, especially for players like Arraez. His defense isn’t stellar, and he doesn’t hit many homers, which drags down his WAR despite his offensive value. But if he’s consistently getting on base, extending innings, and setting the table for others to drive in runs—his value is very real, even if it’s not fully captured in a WAR formula.

Arraez’s MVP candidacy would also be a referendum on how much voters care about style versus substance. He doesn’t have the power numbers to wow casual fans. He doesn’t steal bases in bunches. He doesn’t make highlight-reel plays at second base. What he does is simple: hit. And hit. And hit. And in a league where pitchers are more dominant than ever, that ability to make consistent, quality contact becomes a weapon of its own. He frustrates pitchers, exhausts defenses, and sets the tone for an offense. That kind of consistency is rare—and valuable.

The idea that Arraez could “steal” the MVP award is also a product of timing. MVP awards are voted on before the postseason but are heavily influenced by late-season performance. If Arraez finishes September on a tear, pushing the Marlins into the Wild Card or even division race, his narrative becomes irresistible. A hot finish, a league-best average, and a playoff push would be difficult to ignore—even if his WAR is lower than other candidates.

There’s also an emotional and historical component. Baseball has always romanticized great hitters, especially those who can challenge .400 or compile hits at a legendary rate. Ted Williams, George Brett, Rod Carew, Wade Boggs—these players captivated fans with their ability to master the hardest skill in sports: hitting a baseball. Arraez has that same artistry. He doesn’t try to do too much. He doesn’t overcomplicate the game. He relies on instincts, hand-eye coordination, and baseball IQ. That simplicity, in an era of data-driven strategy and launch-angle obsessions, feels revolutionary. If voters are looking for a throwback player who defies modern norms, Arraez is the perfect candidate.

Critics will argue that Arraez lacks the “full game” that MVPs are supposed to bring. He’s not a defensive wizard. He doesn’t hit 30+ home runs. His impact doesn’t always show up in the highlight reels. But MVP voting has always had room for exceptions—players who redefine what value means in a given season. If Arraez out-hits the league by 30 or 40 points, leads in OBP, and plays 150+ games with consistent excellence, his lack of power or elite defense could be overshadowed by the simple brilliance of his contact.

There’s also the potential international appeal of an Arraez MVP run. As a Venezuelan player, Arraez carries the pride of a nation that has produced some of baseball’s most revered hitters, including Miguel Cabrera and José Altuve. His success resonates beyond just his stats; it becomes part of a larger cultural story. An MVP for Arraez would not just be a personal milestone—it would be a historic moment for his country and for fans of a more nuanced, skill-based style of play.

Ultimately, the idea that Luis Arraez could steal the MVP hinges on how voters define value in today’s game. Do they reward raw numbers and power, or do they consider consistency, reliability, and the rare ability to put the bat on the ball in any count, against any pitcher? If Arraez wins his fourth batting title—and especially if he does so with a historically high average—he becomes a legitimate MVP candidate. Not just a novelty. Not just a feel-good story. But a real, credible threat to take home the award.

In that sense, “stealing” the MVP would not be a robbery—it would be a correction. A recognition that hitting, in its purest form, still matters. That value can be expressed in different ways. That not every MVP needs to hit 40 home runs. If Luis Arraez can remind the baseball world of that, he won’t just deserve the MVP—he’ll redefine what it means.