If you haven’t heard by now, the Washington Nationals called up former Stanford closer Drew Storen from its Triple-A affiliate.

At Stanford, Storen was simply dominant. Last year, the draft-eligible sophomore led the team in both wins and saves. As a freshman, the Iowa native anchored the Cardinal bullpen in Stanford’s run to the College World Series, earning two saves in the Super Regional against Cal State Fullerton.

When Storen was the 10th overall pick in last year’s draft by the Nationals, baseball experts threw out words like “smart,” “gritty,” “knows how to win” and “selfless.” After his promotion this weekend, those words once again resurfaced.

I’m not saying Storen isn’t any of those things, but those are the same words I heard when Toby Gerhart was drafted in April. And the same words when Robin and Brook Lopez were drafted. And the same words when Stanford catcher Jason Castro was drafted two years ago.

And they’ll probably be the same words when Andrew Luck gets drafted (hopefully in two years, not next year — cross your fingers).

What is it with Cardinal athletes? Is the Stanford Athletic Department that good at churning out the ultimate team player — the hard-worker, do-whatever-it-takes, keeps-the-clubhouse-loose-type player?

It could be, but it’s doubtful.

What Stanford excels at is selling a brand. The university sells its students as innovators, as entrepreneurs, as the world’s next leaders. There’s a reason you came here over other top-ranked schools.

The Athletic Department sells its athletes as the complete package — great on the field, in the locker room, in the video room and in the weight room. In short, a coach’s dream.

Just as when a white basketball player steps on the court and is instantly pinned as the max-effort guy, diving for loose balls and hustling back on defense, when an athlete gets the Stanford tag slapped on him, people assume certain traits about him.

Gerhart talks about how excited he is to play a complementary role to Adrian Peterson. Brook Lopez refuses to place blame on his teammates despite the Nets 12-70 record. Luck can’t stop praising Gerhart as a “special player” when asked to explain the team’s success last year.

Stanford athletes, former and current, apparently are ingrained with the ability to be the consummate professional.

Where these preconceived notions come from is unclear. It seems just as likely that Stanford athletes would be perceived as elitist, spoiled and too good for their academically inferior teammates.

No, these people who have been the best at what they have done since an early age — academics and athletics — suddenly transform into Mr. Modest the instant draft pundits start talking about them.

The question stands, does Stanford turn its athletes into the dream teammate, or do the media simply overplay the Stanford angle?

It seems logical that Stanford could have an effect in hammering out the ego in the athletes. After dominating their high schools, the student-athletes come to Stanford and are quickly humbled by the high intellectual and athletic level of their peers. They quickly realize they are not as special as they thought they were.

Yet for every Gerhart and Castro, there is a Tiger Woods or a John McEnroe — a Cardinal athlete who thinks he is above the rules. Granted, neither Woods nor McEnroe finished his degree or plays a team sport, but you would be hard-pressed to say their time at Stanford deflated their egos in the least bit.

So which one is it?

Would you describe Mike Lazarus’ writing as “gritty,” “smart” and “selfless?”. Let him know at mlazarus “at” stanford.edu.쇓