Joc Pederson is World's Best Joc Pederson

Monday, on my drive to work, I heard a sports talk radio host ask whether Joc Pederson might just be the greatest Dodgers center fielder of all time. I changed the station before I could hear the answer to that insane question, but I did find myself taking a split second to think about it.

With all due respect to the folks at AM 570, half a season isn't quite enough time to overcome the lifetime achievements of Duke Snider or Willie Davis, or even his predecessor Matt Kemp. But there's a reason that Pederson, who reached the finals of that night's Home Run Derby, is beginning to garner national attention.

It's silly to think about a rookie's place in baseball history, but it's not so silly to think about his place in the present. For example, Joc Pederson is definitely the right center fielder for the 2015 Dodgers. Not only is he really, really good, but he's really, really good in ways that seem tailor made for the corporate entity and baseball club he plays for. Although Pederson was drafted and developed by a previous management regime, he is a perfect fit for the current one, which is why they immediately cleared space for him even though it required trading away the fan favorite and former MVP candidate Kemp.

Through just 89 games, Pederson has already supplied the Dodgers with a season's worth of offensive production: 20 home runs to go with a .364 on base percentage, mostly from the leadoff spot. But he isn't your prototypical leadoff hitting center fielder. His batting average is just .230 and he's striking out a ton. Once upon a time that might have limited the way management (and fans) evaluated a player. But one of the best consequences of the statistical revolution in baseball has been the expanded appreciation for players whose productivity doesn't fit into neat boxes. Dodgers president Andrew Friedman has never had the standard boxes, anyway.

The Dodgers front office under Friedman and Farhan Zaidi doesn't look at batting average. It looks at things like exit velocity, on base percentage, and wOBA, where Pederson ranks fifth among qualified major league center fielders. The thing about leadoff hitters is that they get the most plate appearances on the team. Pederson is the guy the Dodgers management wants at bat the most.

Over the offseason, Friedman and Zaidi spoke frequently about strengthening the club's defense up the middle. They acquired catcher Yasmani Grandal for Kemp, and traded for Howie Kendrick and Jimmy Rollins to man second base and shortstop. In center, Pederson has been consistently good, and occasionally spectacular. After a season in which Dodger fans (and pitchers) were subject to the likes of Scott Van Slyke, Andre Ethier, Yasiel Puig, and Kemp in center, just seeing Pederson settle under a routine flyball can feel like a revelation. Watching him is exciting, but it is also, perhaps more importantly, comforting.

When I was down at Dodgers Spring Training in March, I made it a point to observe Pederson in the clubhouse and taking batting practice. What struck me about him then, and what continues to strike me about him now, is his youthfulness. This goes beyond being young, which he is, having turned 23 in April. It goes beyond his features, which are more little boyish than boyish. It's the way he carries himself. In a clubhouse that has been fraught for years, Pederson gives the impression of floating above controversy. Where Kemp, the man he replaced, seemed to be playing with a heavy load on his back even in the good times, Pederson seems preternaturally unburdened. This might change in time: after all, Pederson is just a rookie. The pressure will only get heavier, and the stakes will only get higher. But so far, he has not been affected.

Take a look at this catch, in the bottom of the ninth inning with two on and two out in a tie game against the Padres:

That right there is a chill dude. The Dodgers won in the 12th inning.

Pederson's approach at the plate, for the beautiful towering home runs it generates, is also exceedingly chill. He stands upright in the left handed batter's box, his hands out in front of him. As the pitcher delivers, Pederson lifts his front leg almost like he himself is a pitcher coming out of the stretch, setting back his hands and then twisting the bat through the zone in one of those beautiful arcing left handed swings where the bat seems to follow a path dictated by the golden ratio or whatever other miracle of nature gives left handed power hitters their inherent superiority.

The comparison is wrong in a lot of ways, and even if it was right, it would be unfair. But watch Pederson's bat as it whips through the strike zone. Watch the ball soar into the second deck. Ignore the two-handed follow through. And think for a second about Ken Griffey Jr.

Pederson doesn't have the physical presence of a player like Griffey, or even a player like Puig, who he stands beside in the outfield. In this respect and many others, Pederson is a perfect foil for Puig—or put another way, the perfect complement.

While Puig is massive and appears perpetually on the verge of exploding, Pederson is generously listed at 6-1, 215, and could pass for a second baseman. While Puig burst on the scene with a big contract and a short minor league stint, Pederson methodically worked his way to the big leagues as an 11th round draft pick. While Puig grew up in a village outside of Cienfuegos and is still living in the shadow of his insane escape from Cuba, Pederson grew up in upper middle class Palo Alto, Calif. While Puig is right handed, Pederson is left handed. While Puig lashes line drives to the opposite field, Pederson yanks towering fly balls to pull.

Which is all to say that in L.A., Pederson has a chance to not only become a world famous baseball superstar, he has a chance to do so by simply being himself. He doesn't need to worry about Duke Snider or Matt Kemp. He's a hell of a good Joc Pederson—and the Dodgers, and baseball fans everywhere, are thankful for that.