Most of the New York Mets were putting on their snazzy dress clothes, ready to head back to their hotels. Carlos Delgado was still in the clubhouse wearing sweats and carrying a bat, his work day not yet done.

In the first post-season of a major league career that began in 1993, Delgado has carried the Mets within two wins of the World Series with a polished performance that most players only dream of.

``It's fun when you're winning. It's fun when you're going out there getting hits,'' the longtime Toronto Blue Jay said with a wide smile and a chuckle Monday after Game 5 of the NL championship series was rained out.

His 1,711 games without a post-season appearance had been the most among active major leaguers, a distinction now taken over by Jeromy Burnitz (1,694). Delgado is batting .414 (12-for-29) with four homers and 11 RBIs in seven games.

But it's not just what he's hitting, it's when he's hitting. His home run against the Los Angeles Dodgers tied the first-round opener, and all three against the St. Louis Cardinals have broken ties.

``When there's runners in scoring position, you almost see him switch modes into this automatic run-producer. It's special to watch,'' Mets third baseman David Wright said.

Delgado is not just a teammate _ he's also a teacher and motivator. He records each of his plate appearances in a notebook for future reference, as diligently as Curt Schilling marks down notes on hitters in a spiral-bound book.

``I had it for like probably 10 years,'' Delgado said. ``The last few years, it's a habit. It's part of my routine. I write it down, and at the end of the day I have a little bit more customized _ for lack of a better term _ scouting report. My memory's not as good as it used to be, so I've got to write (stuff) down.''

With a shaved head and goatee, the six-foot-three first baseman is a fierce batter for pitchers to face. But away from the plate, he has a grin that lights up the room, and he gives some of the most intelligent, erudite responses among major leaguers.

``That real cerebral approach,'' manager Willie Randolph said.

Delgado's gregarious, inquisitive personality filters down to teammates.

``He was one that spent so much time studying pitchers, I thought that stuff was contagious,'' Mets general manager Omar Minaya said.

But talking, of course, isn't enough in the major leagues. You have to produce.

Delgado became the 11th player to get four hits in his post-season debut, according to the Elias Sports Bureau, and against the Cardinals he became only the fifth player with nine or more RBIs in the first four games of a post-season series, joining Graig Nettles, Don Baylor, Matt Williams and Hideki Matsui.

``This guy's got it all,'' Cardinals manager Tony La Russa said. ``Guys like that, they have the ability to hit a lot of different pitches and they make adjustments. That's Carlos Delgado, can't go to the same place to get him out. You've got to mix it up, and if you've made a mistake like we've made, he punishes you. He's a big-time producer.''

Before the Mets acquired him from Florida in November, Delgado was probably known best in New York for his refusal to stand on the field during ``God Bless America'' in 2004 and 2005, a protest of the U.S.-Iraq war. Once he got to the Mets, he dropped that protest because Randolph expects his players to ``stand at attention and honour the flag'' during the song.

``I'm a baseball player, I'm not a political activist,'' Delgado said at the time.

New York lost out on him to the Marlins after the 2004 season, when he was a free agent. But this season, he's been everything the Mets had hoped for, hitting 38 homers and driving in 114 runs. And he's made his teammates better, too.

``Every time we go to the cage, we try to go at the same time,'' Carlos Beltran said. ``I watch him. He watches me. Sometimes when I get in trouble, he lets me know what I'm doing. Sometimes when he gets in trouble, I let him know.''

Carlos and Carlos have known each other for about seven years, and they have lunch together in Puerto Rico in the off-season. Delgado makes it a point of sharing the knowledge he's marked down in his notebooks.

``We don't have sensitive people here,'' he said. ``You go talk to somebody and say, `You're doing this, and maybe you should look for this. Or you should look for that.' And people don't take it personally. They take it like constructive criticism. We look up to each other, and we feed off each other to try to make this ballclub better. That's one of the things that kept us together and kept us going. We struck together as a team. There's no jealousy. There's no looking over the shoulders.''

But for all that thinking and preparing, walking up to the plate isn't exactly like Newton spelling out his Laws of Motion. Delgado sees the ball, and he hits it. Better than most.

``Sometimes you think too much,'' Delgado said. ``You try to do too much, and it doesn't let you start soon enough. It sounds simple.''