Pujols' frosty personality comes to light on big stage

Don't fall for that line of bunk. For years, decades even, players in every sport have spoken with the media after tough losses. Players can handle it, even the "very best competitors," provided they aren't jerks. Bonds couldn't handle it, but he was a jerk. Steve Carlton and Kevin Brown couldn't handle it, either, but they were jerks. After a period of time, those titles became accepted: Steve Carlton = jerk.

If Pujols isn't careful it'll happen to him, and if you're wondering why it hasn't happened yet, look at his address. He plays in St. Louis, a town that for years has looked the other way for its best baseball players. For example, I'm writing this story from the Enos Slaughter Room. Slaughter was behind a near-boycott in 1947 when the Cardinals objected to the color of Jackie Robinson's skin. In some places a player gets maligned for that sort of thing. In St. Louis he gets a room named after him.

Remember the discovery of andro in Mark McGwire's locker, one of the events that triggered the steroid scandal? The bottle wasn't discovered by the local media, which had years to notice it, but by an out-of-state Associated Press writer. Years later, McGwire's name is mostly dirt, but not in St. Louis. Stories and photos of his greatest moments in a Cardinals uniform still hang in the press room. His jersey sells in the stadium stores. Here, he's untouchable.

The same goes for Pujols, whose boorish behavior is becoming known now that he is on a national stage. Before the NLCS began, Pujols approached a crowd of reporters waiting to speak with him -- during the specific time the media was allowed in the clubhouse -- and growled, "Get out of my freaking locker."

Pujols dressed, turned and spotted some reporters still hoping for a moment of his time. Pujols gave them a moment. It went like this: "You guys are a pain ... you know that?"

We are what we are, Albert. That's no secret.

But you are what you are, too. That's no longer a secret, either.