The overwhelming consensus among fans and the press is that the Chicago Cubs should just concede the National League Central to the St. Louis Cardinals. Not only did the Cubs lose hitting stars Sammy Sosa and Moises Alou over the winter, but they spent spring training fretting over injuries to ace pitchers Kerry Wood and Mark Prior.

I wouldn’t argue too hard with anyone who wanted to pick the defending National League champions. The Redbirds sport a potent lineup, a good defense, a deep rotation, and alleged genius Tony LaRussa at the helm. But the Cubs have more than a shot at the division this year.

Anyone who wants to peg Chicago’s chances to the health of Wood and Prior just isn’t paying attention. A team running out Carlos Zambrano and Greg Maddux for 40% of its starts is going to do all right with its pitching – and the Cubs aren’t solely dependent on their rotation, either. If they do overtake the Cardinals this year, much of their success will owe to two young hitting stars to whom puzzlingly little respect is paid.

First among them is third baseman Aramis Ramirez, whom the Cubs signed to a four-year, $42 million deal on Monday. Last year, Ramirez put up a 318 AVG/.373 OBA/.578 SLG line while playing through a rather severe groin strain that cost him 20 games; that performance was greeted with some skepticism by observers who recalled Ramirez’s 2002 performance, in which he posted an OBA of .279 and was one of the worst players in the National League. This is a fine example of selective memory.

Not so long ago, Ramirez was one of the top hitting prospects in baseball. In 1999, as a 21-year-old, he destroyed Triple-A pitching, posting a .969 OPS. Unfortunately, he was in the Pittsburgh Pirates’ system at a time when they had no idea what they were doing. In 1998, Ramirez had been promoted from A-ball, then called up to Pittsburgh despite only having held his own in the high minors. Predictably, he failed. In 2000, despite having shown he had nothing left to prove in the minors, he was left in Triple-A for the first two months of the season. When he was called up, he struggled, and was thought of as something of a failed prospect.

But he was only 23, and in 2001 he broke out, hitting .300 with 34 home runs for the Pirates, who sensibly signed him to a long-term deal. In 2002, he played through serious injuries, and halfway through the 2003 season he was traded to the Cubs in what was essentially a salary dump. At that point he was all of 25, and had already gone from failed prospect to star to bust to disappointing veteran traded away to save money.

In Chicago, Ramirez proved a perfect fit. A disciplined but aggressive hitter who neither walks nor strikes out much for someone with his power – his attack is somewhat reminiscent of Mike Piazza’s in that regard – he found encouragement from manager Dusty Baker, who loves that sort of hitter. In 2003, he hit 15 home runs in 63 games down the stretch as the Cubs made the playoffs, and last year he emerged as a star.

Coming off a year in which he posted the same slugging percentage as Jim Thome, Ramirez should be widely considered a genuine MVP candidate. He isn’t. Why? I think we generally look for an orderly progression in players’ careers, and when that is interrupted by bad management or injury, we look for reasons why success won’t continue, rather than reasons why it will. Fortunately for the Cubs, they looked at Ramirez and saw a star.

The real key to the Cubs’ season, however, is in center field, where Corey Patterson is even more overlooked than Ramirez. From the time he was drafted, Patterson was pegged as a can’t-miss prospect, a genuine five-tool player – which is saying something, considering he stands about 5 feet 7 inches and might weigh 170 on a good day. He dominated the lower minors from day one, and despite struggling in Triple-A at age 21, he was called up and installed in the Cubs’ lineup, where he predictably struggled. With an enormously long swing and an aggressive approach, Patterson posted a miserable 19/142 BB/K ratio and a .253 BA/.284 OBA/.392 SLG line in 2002, his first full season in the big leagues, and was commonly derided as an over hyped fraud.

Then, in 2003, he broke out. In a season that ended halfway through the year with a gruesome broken leg, Patterson became exactly the kind of player everyone expected – hitting for average and power, stealing bases, and playing Gold Glove defense. It was enough for a fine .298/.331/.511 line, and he was all of 23, an age when many excellent prospects are still in Double-A.

Last year, Patterson was essentially a league-average hitter and one of the N.L.’s elite defenders. He walked 45 times, more than doubling his previous high, and his main problem was, as it is with many young players, consistency. His OPS fluctuated wildly from month to month – in April, he hit .820; in June,.932; in August,.993.In May it was .691; July,.572; and he posted a .644 as the Cubs collapsed in September.

It’s hard to see what’s not to like. Patterson dominated the game at a young age, was rushed to the majors, quickly adjusted, and missed half a breakout campaign due to injury. He’s 25 years old and already a valuable player – if he can just stay strong through a season, he can be a serious MVP candidate.

Yet he, like Ramirez, is often treated with skepticism. Some people think he strikes out too much, some don’t like his style of play, and some just look at that fact that he’s been around since the 2000 season and fail to remember his age. And there are many who don’t mention him at all as a reason why the Cubs can beat the Cardinals, while lamenting Mark Prior’s swollen elbow.

Why is that so? I’m not quite sure. Maybe all prospects are supposed to come up from the minors and, like Albert Pujols, immediately start hitting like Joe DiMaggio. Perhaps they’re supposed to never have any holes in their games or their statistical records – to never get hurt and never struggle with the curveball or with clueless coaches. If the Cubs win this year, it will be largely because they recognize something so obvious it should go without saying – someone who shows he can hit like a star at 23 is someone you just stick in the lineup until you win.