The home-run swing comes in many forms. It ranges from the artistic whip-like movement exemplified by Ken Griffey Jr. to the panicked marionette impression favored by Hunter Pence, the muscled uppercut of Prince Fielder to the paintbrush stroke of Carlos Gonzalez. All of them are impressive and beautiful in their own way. (Yes, even Pence’s. The fact alone that he can hit a ball that far with mechanics like that probably means he deserves no fewer than 20 awards.)

The prospect of a Chris Davis home run has become a mundane event. The big man is paid to hit dingers, and lots of them. He does just that. He is Paul Bunyan, and he plays in a stadium that was probably bought at Toys “R” Us and came with Matchbox cars. It helps that he can hit the ball out anywhere, but has taken up residence in Baltimore. Davis home runs are like Billy Hamilton steals and Max Scherzer strikeouts. They happen early and often, and therefore it’s easy to lose sight of just how damn cool they are.

“Cool” perhaps isn’t the first word to pop into one’s head when seeking to describe Davis. “Big,” “strong,” “gargantuan”… these are all good and sound adjectives. But make no mistake. Davis is cool on the field.

Let’s watch him hit a home run.

See. That’s what cool looks like. That’s a cool home run.

Davis swats that thing onto the back gate like it’s offensive to him. Get that weak crap outta here. A few weeks ago, I made the case that the equivalent of a slam dunk in baseball is the monster home run. Davis found a way to nonchalantly dunk on Collin McHugh. Maybe that’s what McHugh gets for throwing this pitch to a guy with a 50-bomb season on his ledger.

Whoops.

Now, if you listened to the commentary in that highlight, you’ll notice that this wasn’t the first dinger McHugh had surrendered that inning. He didn’t have it that day, and the Orioles aren’t a team against which you want to have sloppy stuff. The Orioles, Davis included, can punish the snot out of a bad pitch. Any big-league hitter worth his salt can, but Baltimore has a knack for giving pitchers whiplash.

Here’s another exceedingly satisfying Davis blast.

Look, at least Matt Andriese didn’t throw him a pitch middle-middle. He threw him one middle-out, and he even pretty much hit his catcher’s target. The problem is that Davis has long arms, and a long swing, and more power than a locomotive. So, yeah, it ends up beyond the right-center-field seats.

It’s that long swing, and the nonchalant follow-through, that make Davis so special. He swings at baseballs the way one may swing a bat in beer-league softball. It’s easy and smooth. He knows he’s going to hit the ball a long way, so he’s not surprised when it ends up in a different county. It’s just a walk in the park for him. It’s one of the most aesthetically pleasing long-ball swings in the game right now, and it’s because of how easy it looks.

Davis doesn’t bend his knees while he waits for the pitch. He stands pretty much straight up, and only crouches a bit when it’s time to swing. There’s no illusion that you, too, could launch a ball into the stratosphere, because you more likely than not aren’t Chris Davis-sized or as physically fit as him. But even when Gonzalez finishes with a flourish, it looks like it’s pretty hard to do. Davis makes it look like he could mash in his sleep.

That’s what makes him cool. He’s not the best player on his team, and probably isn’t the second- or third-best either, but he’s the only one who looks like he could roll out of bed, put on a uniform and some cleats, and hit a baseball 450-plus feet. Even Adam Dunn had a slightly more violent swing, as similar as it is.

What’s the point of all these words? It’s this.

It’s January and Jose Bautista hasn’t found a home yet, so we’re doing this instead. It’s important to appreciate the little things.

We get caught up in the big flashy blasts and strikeouts, as we damn well should, because that’s the lifeblood of the sport. We circle back to Bautista and Bryce Harper, to Andrew Miller and Clayton Kershaw. These are the stars of the game. These are the gladiators and the champions.

Davis did that for one year. He nearly won the MVP in 2013 and posted 7 WAR. It was special. It was an event. He hit the ball over the fence 53 times, and every time he did it he looked like he could do it in his sleep.

Maybe he’s got some more production like that in him. He’s probably never going to have a seven-win season again, but he was worth 5.6 in 2015. Maybe this was a down year. Maybe he can be a four-win guy in 2017. We’ll see. No matter what he does, he’s still going to look like a badass when he hits a home runs. It’s fun to appreciate the little things like that.

Anyways, I hope something exciting happens soon. Until then I’ll be watching Davis highlights.