After all that Mike Mussina has accomplished -- he's been to the All-Star game five times, won six Gold Gloves, ranks 19th all-time in strikeouts and 33rd all-time in wins -- one measley win in an absolutely meaningless regular season game shouldn't really matter. But it does.

By pitching six shutout innings agains the Red Sox yesterday afternoon, Mussina won 20 games in a season for the first time in his 18-year career. At 39, he became the oldest player in major league history to accomplish the feat. Although he hasn't officially made up his mind if he wants to try breaking his own record by doing it again at 40, he certainly sounded like a guy ready to hang them up. From the New York Times:

"I've been envious of every guy who's retired since I've been playing - you've done what you wanted to do, and I still have to grind it out, that kind of thing," Mussina said, enjoying a soda in the manager's office between games of a doubleheader. "You get to go home and relax, and you've played the game as long as you've chosen to play it. I've felt good for every one of them."

From the Windup is FanHouse's daily, extended look at a particular portion of America's pastime.

It's the end of the year for baseball. That means we get to talk about MVP and Cy Young Awards. Yay. Because, really, nothing says "important post-season awards" like a group of journalists who don't actually watch every team in baseball putting together a vote for which player(s) deserve to be recognized based primarily on their proximity -- in a team sport -- to the playoffs.

That's somewhat sarcastic of course, but in essence, it is what the MVP and Cy Young awards (both registered trademarks of the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA)!) have become. They are meaningful, because our country has allowed them to become that way.

But the primary problem with these awards is that they are not fairly established -- in terms of voters -- and are most certainly misguided -- in terms of qualifications. Enough so that we are all, for the most part, very confused about what the MVP award should mean.

Roger Clemens was one of the greatest pitchers in the history of baseball.

Since the end of last season, however, he has done nothing but destroy his own legacy. Instead of pulling an Andy Pettitte or Brian Roberts-type mea culpa in the wake of the Mitchell Report, Rocket egotistically thought he could somehow beat the entire legal system and clear his name. In the process of trying to salvage his own name, he's brought down family members, former friends, and most of all himself. All to save his reputation.

In looking through the NY Post this morning, one can find yet another example of the selfish nature of Roger Clemens.

"Debbie and I held his hand while we watched the game, and he was heartbroken," said (Mother-in-law Jan) Wild, 70. "Not mad. He still loves baseball and the Yankees, but it was sad what they did to him."

Once again, Rocket finds a way to make something about himself. It's all about what other people have done "to him." Rocket's never done anything wrong. He's sitting in an area of our country which is in absolute shambles from a devastating hurricane. Millions still don't have power ... and not being included in a video montage by the New York Yankees is what brings Clemens down.

From the Windup is FanHouse's daily, extended look at a particular portion of America's pastime.

Dear John Smoltz, Greg Maddux, and Tom Glavine:

First of all, I just wanted to say I'm a huge fan of all three of you. Obviously, being a Cubs fan, I have a soft spot for Maddux, but all three of you exemplify what it means to be a major league player both on and off the field. You are great teammates, and you care enough to work on hitting and bunting in addition to taking pride in fielding your position well. You three should all be admired for this, in addition to the stellar pitching accolades you have accrued for the better part of the past two decades.

That is why what I'm about to do is so difficult. I'm begging you three to all retire after this season.

Jeff Kent has been in baseball a long time. He has also said that he has zero intention of going out the door like Brett Favre (you know, indecisive whining that tortures a fanbase). And now he may have a touch decision ahead, if he wants to stick to his guns on that call.

See, he's probably going to be out for the season. And it was supposed to be his final season. So, um, yeah.

Kent, 40, has been playing through pain from slightly torn cartilage in his knee for about a month, fully aware that the continued grind of playing baseball on an everyday basis meant there was a strong risk of additional, more painful tearing.

That additional tearing is believed to be what took place during Friday's game. Kent was said to be in "excruciating pain" after leaving the game, and club officials were holding out slim hope of getting him back in what is widely expected to be his final season.

"Knowing him, I can't say (he is done) for sure," Dodgers manager Joe Torre said.

Torre also went on to say that he felt like Kent's goal in sticking around was to help the Dodgers "win a pennant", which seems kind of obvious, but it's pretty indicative that he wouldn't have still been playing if the Dodgers didn't have a shot at winning this year.

Kent's a lockjob for Cooperstown, and it would make sense that the only thing he wants to do before he rolls out of the game is pick up a championship ring. But it also stands to reason that he knows how pathetic chasing one looks. So, he may just call the dogs off, head back home and spend the rest of his days not watching porn.

When I was a kid, I had a poster stapled to my bedroom wall. Greg Maddux, John Smoltz, Tom Glavine, and Steve Avery, all stone-faced and holding baseballs.

In retrospect, Avery sort of served as abstract representation of the obligatory placeholder. First it was him, then it was Denny Neagle, then Kevin Millwood. They were not individuals; they were the nameless rabble of exploding drummers from Spinal Tap.

If Maddux, Glavine and Smoltz end up retiring this year, and hit the Hall of Fame ballot simultaneously, what becomes of Avery? Bizarre gardening accident?

This evening's Dugout is after the jump.

On Deck is FanHouse's look at the day's most intriguing baseball matchups.

Houston Astros (47-56) at Milwaukee Brewers (60-44) 2:05 PM ET

The addition of CC Sabathia was supposed to give the Brewers a chance to catch the Cubs in the N.L. Central by the end of the season. Their ascension has been much quicker ... as a 9-1 run combined with the Cubs going 3-7 in their last ten has but the Brewers in a deadlock for first with Chicago. To think that Ned Yost was once the guy we thought was on the hot seat. We were probably right, but it's how a well-timed trade will cool down that seat.

While the 2008 All Star Game may be a thing of the past, people have still been talking about things they saw at Yankee Stadium those three days, and most of them have to do with Josh Hamilton. While most of the talk is about the 498 home runs (give or take) that Hamilton hit during the Home Run Derby (How dumb did Justin Morneau feel having to accept that trophy?), there's also a lot of talk about Hamilton's relationship with the legendary Willie Mays.

The day after the game there was a lot of talk about the apparent snub of Hamilton by Mays before the game. If you didn't see it, before the player introductions, forty-nine Hall of Famers were announced at their positions. Then, when the players were introduced, they ran out to their spot and shook hands with the legends that stood before them. Just one tiny problem.

When Hamilton ran out to his spot in centerfield, Willie Mays turned away from him and kept on talking to Kosuke Fukudome, who doesn't speak a whole lot of English. This of course started the firestorm that Mays didn't like Hamilton for some reason, but Josh wants us to know that wasn't the case at all.

Hamilton quickly denied any sort of snub, though, and said Mays was simply talking to National League starter Kosuke Fukudome and later greeted Hamilton (visual proof above).

"He leaned over and told me, 'Congratulations,' " said Hamilton, a first-time All-Star. "I told him that I've known who he is for a long time and that I'm a big fan."

Josh then told Willie to let his godson know that he has a ton of unused needles should he need any. Or he just sang along to the Star-Spangled Banner, I don't know, I'm not a lip-reader.

As part of the All-Star festivities in New York this week, the folks at Hunt Auctions are selling off some old Yankees memorabilia before the team moves into the new stadium next season. These auctions are always fun, as more often than not, the money goes to charity and you can always get some pretty cool stuff.

For instance, you could have had a bat Babe Ruth signed for Broadway star Tessa Kosta for the low low price of $195,000. If that's a little out of your price range, you could have had Thurman Munson's Rookie of the Year Award for only $46,000.

Of course, for some of you I realize that these types of trinkets just aren't good enough. A signed bat? Please, it was probably never even used in a game! You want something you know was utilized in a real live baseball game. You want something with proof, like say, a hat Babe Ruth once wore stained by his sweat.

A baseball cap worn by New York Yankees slugger Babe Ruth has been auctioned for a record $328,000 on Monday.

The sweat-stained cap from around the 1920s sold at an auction of Yankees memorabilia in New York.

Hunt Auctions says the cap is one of only three Yankees hats in existence worn by Ruth during games. It says a hat used by a player had never sold for more than $100,000.

I wonder if anybody told the guy who bought Ruth's hat that he could have just gotten one through the Yankees website for $32, and it would have come stain free. Though, I suppose that would have denied him the opportunity to fill Ruth's hat with water, squeeze it dry, and no doubt get as drunk as the Babe probably was during the game he played in it.