Nov. 4 (Bloomberg) -- The multimillionaires who take their hacks in the batter’s box like to claim that hitting a baseball is the most difficult thing to do in professional sports.

It isn’t.

There is something that’s far harder than catching up to a comet-tailed fastball or making contact with a knee-buckling Uncle Charlie.

Try, try, try as one might, it is flat-out impossible to stir any hint of self-aggrandizement from Philadelphia’s Chase Utley. The guy just won’t do it.

It’s never about me, me, me with this guy. It’s only about we and us and, yawn, team from Utley, who is the living, breathing, home-run swatting personification of speak softly and carry a big stick.

If any player has earned the right to pat himself on the back during this World Series it’s Utley, who with at least one more game to play at Yankee Stadium has already equaled Reggie Jackson’s mark of five home runs in a single Fall Classic.

Jackson, of course, is known as Mr. October, a moniker awarded for his postseason prowess. Utley, whose seven World Series homers are the most in history by a second baseman, would most appropriately be dubbed Mr. Mum. No matter how many home runs he hits.

“I don’t think he gives a crud about personal accolades,” says teammate Scott Eyre.

Giving Chase

Utley’s feats have catapulted him into exclusive baseball company, alongside surnames familiar to those in the opposing clubhouse.

Five of the homers from Utley, a left-handed hitter, have come off southpaws, tying him with a guy named Ruth for second on the all-time list behind Mickey Mantle, who stands at, appropriately, seven, which was his uniform number.

“It’s great company,” Utley said. “It’s pretty surreal.”

That was it. Bland over bluster. Utley spoke about Game 5 being do-or-die. His first-inning home run off of A.J. Burnett gave the Phillies a 3-1 lead Monday night. It set the tone. That’s what leaders do.

Utley understands that dealing with the throngs of lights, cameras and microphones are a job requirement, especially at this time of year. It pays the bills. Still, while some athletes view face time as an opportunity to raise their Q Rating, which measures a celebrity’s popularity, Utley sees it as nothing more than precious minutes stolen from preparing for the opposing pitcher in the batting cage or video booth.

Search for Compliments

Asking Utley about his game preparation is pointless. He offers bland wrapped in boring enveloped in platitude. You have to go elsewhere for truth and compliments. No better place to start than manager Charlie Manuel, who can kill a tape recorder’s fully charged batteries when he starts talking about his 30-year-old, no-nonsense second baseman.

You would think that a manager would be able to pull up a chair and share a clubhouse meal with one of his players.

Not if that player happens to be Utley, who, cliched as it sounds, is the first player to arrive at the ballpark. Every day.

“If you walk in there and you want to go eat lunch with him, he’s going to tell you to go take a hike, that he’s going to do his work,” Manuel said in his folksy Virginia drawl. “I love that part about him.”

Those who would compare Utley to Jackson don’t know either man.

Favorite Subject

Reggie’s favorite subject is Reggie.

Reggie’s e-mail includes the Mr. October moniker. Utley’s e-mail would probably be something like leavemealone@nothingtosay.com.

Reggie seeks the limelight, like the time he invited himself to be the Knicks’ good luck charm at the National Basketball Association draft lottery. Yes, really.

If you must make a comparison between Utley and a Yankees player the most likely one would be Derek Jeter, the team captain who doesn’t command the clubhouse floor often but gets everyone’s attention when he does.

There’s no telling whether Utley will have something inspiring to say before tonight’s must-win Game 6. He might be busy in the video room watching tape of Yankees starter Andy Pettitte, who pitched Game 3, in which Utley went 0-4 with two strikeouts.

The Yankees have 26 World Championships, many of them coming across the street, where a tarp covers most of the old stadium. When they closed it, Jeter said he hoped the ghosts would travel.

That would be fine with Utley, who can stand beside Yankees legends such as Ruth and Mantle.

Utley didn’t say that. His bat did.

(Scott Soshnick is a Bloomberg News columnist. The opinions expressed are his own.)

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To contact the writer of this column: Scott Soshnick in New York at ssoshnick@bloomberg.net

Last Updated: November 3, 2009 21:00 EST