Albert Pujols & Empty Milestones

On Sunday, Los Angeles Angel Designated Hitter Albert Pujols mashed his 600th career home run—a Grand Slam, no less—in a 7-2 win over the Minnesota Twins.

But it feels like it did not garner the type of attention past players received when reaching such a milestone.

In this episode, I welcome back sometimes co-blogger Braden Leap, the King of Predicting the SEC, to chat about Pujols’ career and why that home run seemed to be overshadowed.

 

Cullen Jekel: Comparing it to players in the past who were also approaching 600 career home runs, what type of press coverage do you think Pujols received?

I thought it was low compared with, most recently, Alex Rodriguez. That, of course, has to do with the team–anyone on the Yankees is going to make bigger headlines than any player on any other team. But I still [feel] like there was a lack of coverage of Pujols approaching this particular milestone. What do you think?

 

Braden Leap: Yeah, but it’s also because Pujols isn’t such a polarizing figure (unless from St. Louis). People love to hate A-Rod so he’s better click-bate.

 

CJ: I think it’s more than that. I think it’s because nobody cares about a player, regardless of where he’s playing, who doesn’t win. And Pujols hasn’t won in Los Angeles. A-Rod, as polarizing as he was, won a World Series with the Yankees. Pujols, with the Angels in five full seasons, has reached the post-season once—and he hit .167 while getting swept by the Royals. That year, [2014], the Angels led the majors in wins with 98 and the Royals made the playoffs by the skin of their teeth. That was a big blow, and it was probably Pujols’ best chance at winning while in Los Angeles.

In his time in L.A., from 2012 to now, he’s already had more losing seasons (two) than he had in his eleven years with the Cardinals (one). And this year doesn’t look any better. The Angels, despite having the best player in baseball in Mike Trout (whom, I should note, is currently injured), are under-.500 and 13 games behind the division-leading Houston Astros. It won’t get better, either. Outside of Trout and Pujols, the rest of the Angels aren’t winning-caliber guys.

If you don’t win, you don’t mean that much. In the second-half of his career, Pujols has been a disappointment.

 

BL: The Yankees were bad when A-Rod broke that record, yeah? So, it’s more than just being good/bad at the time of the record. Just because A-Rod broke the record and once played on winning teams doesn’t matter, according to your logic, if he broke the record when the Yankees weren’t any good.

 

CJ: The Yankees were not bad when A-Rod hit his 600th. In fact, they won 95 games that year, earning the Wild Card, before sweeping the Twins in the ALDS and then losing to the Rangers in 6 games. They would make the playoffs three more times with Rodriguez in the lineup.

A-Rod made the all-star team that year (2010) as well as the next before having a bit of a resurgence his penultimate season.

I’m confused about your comment regarding my “logic.” My point is this: Pujols didn’t get the press coverage because he a) isn’t great anymore and b) he hasn’t won in years, and both of those things make him irrelevant. It’s different than Rodriguez: he played in a bigger market; he was still productive; the Yankees were winning.

 

BL: Ahh, ok.  For some reason I thought the Yankees weren’t doing well when A-Rod broke the record.  So, I was thinking the Angels being bad wasn’t a reason for the lack of coverage on Pujols given that I was mistakenly under the impression the Yankees were bad when A-Rod was getting coverage.  I guess the winner/not-winner has something to do with it, but I think it has more to do with A-Rod being polarizing and him playing for the Yankees.

Kobe [Bryant], for example, got all kinds of press in his later years even though he wasn’t exactly good and the Lakers were terrible.  Even though he wasn’t good or playing for a winner, he’s controversial and the Lakers are to basketball as the Yankees are to baseball in that they’re both historically good franchises that are generally disliked by everyone except their fans. It’s a doubly good comparison for this because Kobe and Pujols were in the same media market.

 

CJ: That was random.

With Pujols: is his career a disappointment?

 

BL: Absolutely not.  I think the only way you can make that argument is by saying he doesn’t live up to his contract.  But is it really his fault that the Angels were dumb enough to pay him that much given how old he was when he signed the contract?  I don’t think so.  He was so good in St. Louis, and it’s not like he’s absolutely terrible now.  He’s not as good as he was (obviously), [but] he’s still hitting with some pop, so who knows how many homers he eventually ends up with[?]

Also, he went in the 13th round of the [1999] draft after over 400 other players had been [drafted].  A disappointment??? Come on!

 

CJ: No one could have lived up to that contract. The Angels threw it at him because their owner wanted that ring. They signed a couple of other players around that [off-season], like Josh Hamilton and C.J. Wilson, both of whom are no longer there. If the Angels had won a World Series—or win one while he’s there—I think the contract, as much as an albatross as it is, would [be] worth it.

But I think Pujols’ career turned into a disappointment because, when he reached free agency, he was on pace to become the best hitter in the history of the game. That won’t happen now. I know you love yourself some data, so here’s some goose-free data:

 

• Of his 600 career home runs, only 155 have come with the Angels.
• Of his 2,876 hits, only 803 have come with the Angels
• In eleven seasons with the Cardinals, he averaged 188 hits, 117 runs, 41 doubles, 40 home runs, 121 RBI, 89 walks, 64 strikeouts, a .328/.420/.617 slash-line for a 1.037 OPS, and 7.9 WAR.
• Prorating this season, in six seasons with the Angels, he averaged 149 hits, 75 runs, 28 doubles, 29 home runs, 97 RBI, 47 walks, 70 strikeouts, a .265/.321/.470 slash-line for a 791 OPS, and 2.6 WAR.
• He made 10 All-Star games with the Cardinals and 1 with the Angels.
• With the Cardinals, he won the 2001 Rookie of the Year, 3 MVP awards, 6 Silver Slugger awards, and 2 Gold Gloves.
• With the Angels, he’s won zero awards.
• With the Cardinals, he led the league 16 times in certain categories, such as doubles, home runs, RBI, runs scored, etc.
• With the Angels, he’s never done that.

He’s been rather average with the Angels. And in a league where it’s all about right now in which, at one point, he looked certain to top [Barry] Bonds (or [Hank] Aaron or Willie Mays) as the best hitter of all-time, and now looks like that’s impossible—combining that fact with the fact that his Los Angeles teams have never won anything makes his career disappointing.

Consider this, too: with St. Louis, was he a superstar? He won multiple MVPs there along with a couple of rings, plus made the All-Star game just about every single season. Sure, he didn’t play on the coast, but he played in one of the two best markets you’d want to be in if it weren’t on the coast.

Did he really need to leave for a coast team to become a superstar—or even more of a superstar? If I correctly recall, the bidding came down to the three teams: Cardinals, Angels, and Marlins. But then the Cardinals cut [their offer] in half—to something like 5 years, $125 million—and the Marlins wouldn’t offer him a no-trade clause (they ended up trading all of their big-name acquisitions they got that year, so that seems like a smart move by Pujols [to turn them down]).

I don’t blame him at all for going with the Angels’ offer. Think about it: had he taken the Cardinals offer, he would have just become a free agent. What would he have received on the market this past offseason? Baseball free agency has changed a lot since 2012, when he first tested the market. I think he’d be one a 1-year deal somewhere for around $10 million, tops. With the Angels, after this year, he still has four years left, for something like $27 million at least for each of those seasons and $30 million his final year—when he’s 41 years old.

 

BL: Those are some impressive stats, but they don’t show disappointment. It’s ridiculous to say Pujols (or anyone) is a disappointment because they aren’t the best ever and/or as good late in their career as they were in their prime. Those are impossible standards, unless you’re the best ever and somehow managed to not age.

 

CJ: At the time when he became a free agent, it looked like he had a chance—albeit an outside one—to surpass Barry Bonds’ all-time home run record. Now, that chance is gone. He could still reach 700—but I don’t think he will. I think this will soon turn into an ugly end of the career stretch, like Mays with the Mets, Ruth with the Boston Braves, Mark McGwire in 2001 when he hit below .190, or last year with Alex Rodriguez, who was unceremoniously benched, then released, by the Yankees. Smart team and business move by the Yanks, but crappy for one of the best ever players. Same could happen to Pujols, especially since he’s a bit injury-prone as he ages, and is pretty much a DH. $27 million is a ton of money to pay any player, but especially to one who only hits, and doesn’t hit at a higher level any longer.

Don’t get me wrong: he’s a first-ballot Hall of Famer. Currently, there are only five players to have ever hit 500 home runs and reach 3,000 hits. Pujols will join that club next year. He’ll most likely end his career with a batting average at or above .300. He’s got a chance to hit 700 home runs, and become just the second player of the 3,000-hit, 700-home run club, along with Hank Aaron. He’ll finish in the top-10 all-time of extra-base hits (he’s already 7th), doubles (currently 12th) and RBI (currently 13th). He could finish in the top-5 in two of those categories.

However, most of those accomplishments last came in 2011. He’s done little since he left St. Louis. This is a what-have-you-done-for-me-lately league. He’s still popping home runs, but as we’ll talk about in a bit, for whatever reason, power numbers seem to not matter as much as they used to. He’ll definitely get more credit when he reaches 700 home runs, but his 600th was overshadowed because he’s no longer relevant.

If you’re looking at his career as a whole and think, Well, he could have been the best ever, then yes, his career is a disappointment. His winning ways did not move west with him and his atrocious contract. His numbers went down as he aged, like it does with everyone—but it feels more distinct with him. From ages 21 to 31, all with St. Louis, he was amazing. From ages 32 to now (he’s 37), he’s been slightly above-average.

 

BL: So, if a first ballot Hall of Famer who was drafted in the 13th round is disappointing, what’s a non-disappointing career look like?

 

CJ: Well, what I said is that he was on track to become the best hitter in all of baseball, and then once he went to Los Angeles, fell off the precipice. That’s what’s disappointing: he coulda been the best, but he fell way short.

 

BL: Ok, if the standard is best hitter ever. Then yes, he’s disappointing. But my point is, that’s a bad standard to judge anyone on. There’s all kinds of players who could have been the best ever had things been different. E.g., [Ken] Griffey[, Jr].  That doesn’t make them disappointments. In my opinion, if you’re a Hall of Famer (first ballot or not), you can’t be considered a disappointment. Like you said, unless something crazy happens, he’s first ballot. Thus, not disappointing.

I mean, [the] Hall of Fame is the best of the best to ever play. How can anyone be a disappointment if they’re one of the all-time greats? It’s a somewhat absurd argument to make that you can be both one of the best to ever play and yet someone who had a disappointing career. It’s like saying Katy Perry is a disappointment because she’s sold [fewer] records than T. Swift. Or that Alan Jackson has had a disappointing career because he’s not George Strait.

Is there any other first ballot Hall of Famer you would say had a disappointing career?

 

CJ: Resorting to naming pop-stars. Nice. Took me a minute to realize who “T. Swift” was. I know Jackson and Strait are county brosefs, but if you’re going to name country people to me, give me Eric Church or give me death!

And I do consider Griffey, Jr. a disappointment. Injuries derailed his career so much that I can’t help but feel bad for that the guy. He didn’t exactly take the biggest offer, as did Pujols, but he went home, and that turned out to be a disastrous mistake. Hell, his lasting image is (supposedly) falling asleep in the dugout during a game.

Overall, Pujols has had an amazing career, and will go down as a top-10, if not higher, all-time Major League Baseball player. His accolades—or Escalades, if you prefer, Mr. Charles—are tremendous and, in the future, when a casual baseball player checks his numbers, he or she will be positively astounded. Dig deeper, though, and you’ll see a guy who through the first eleven seasons of his career was on pace to be the best ever, and then crashed in his final ten.

I have two other questions for you:

1) Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that Pujols was a superstar with the Cardinals—did he then need to join a coastal team to become an even bigger superstar?

2) Regarding power numbers in baseball in general, do those milestones just not matter as much as they used to? If so, why? Steroids causing distrust? The game is different now (even though this year, home runs are being hit at an unprecedented rate)? The way we watch baseball, specifically, and sports, generally, is different? What’s the reason?

 

BL: 1) I don’t think so. I think being on a coast and playing for teams like the Yankees definitely boosts players profiles (see [Derek] Jeter), but it isn’t necessary to play on a coast to be a superstar. I think he was a star before he left.

2). Definitely. I mean it’s not even just power numbers. It’s as if hitting milestones in general are being devalued. Like [Craig] Biggio not being first-ballot with 3,000 hits. Steroids have to be a factor, but I think it’s more than that. Don’t people make arguments about expansions in teams and therefore fewer good pitchers per team?

 

CJ: 1) I think the only thing that would have propelled him more into the public eye would have been signing with, as you mentioned, the Yankees—or the Red Sox. Unfortunately for Pujols, neither of those teams wanted him. But I agree with you that he was already a superstar at this time, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that didn’t factor into anything.

2) The argument about expansion teams diluting the quality of pitching is no longer that big of a concern due to specialization (and utilization) of the bullpen. Instead of having some chum going the full nine, running out of gas around the 7th and coasting the rest of the way, you’ve got fireballers coming in as early as the 6th, throwing heat coupled with a breaking-ball of sorts. And you get those guys the 6th, the 7th, the 8th and the 9th.

Fans just don’t seem to care that much about power numbers anymore. Perhaps that’s because baseball’s biggest fans are aging, and the new ones are indoctrinated with so-called “new-aged” stats, i.e., analytics, which devalue offensive numbers that don’t have to be computed. No one seems to care about the RBI anymore, for instance.

Maybe it’s also because of the way people consume baseball these days. I remember always trying to catch SportsCenter or Baseball Tonight (R.I.P.) on ESPN. Now I couldn’t care less about watching shows like that. I watch the Royals, because they are my local team (and baseball is by far the most localized of professional sports in America) and I sometimes watch highlights on my phone. Home runs used to matter to the point where you wanted to gobble them up as much as possible.

I remember being caught up at the age of 11 or 12 during McGwire and Sammy Sosa’s chase of Roger Maris’ mythical 61 home runs. I vividly recall games that season that I attended where McGwire homered and Sosa homered. Same goes for when Bonds was chasing McGwire’s (not-so-mythical) 70 home runs. I saw him homer in person, and it was amazing.

Nowadays, when I don’t go nearly as much as I did, I care less and less as each season passes.

Hell: maybe that would be different if Pujols had stayed a Cardinal.

Then again, maybe not.

***

Thanks for sticking around for all of this. I have a couple of irons in the fire with some upcoming posts, two about books and one about movies. Who knows if I’ll ever actually get around to them, though?

Braden and I will, however, be back, after a one-year hiatus, for another round of predicting SEC football. I’ll already tell you I predict Mizzou to slightly improve and for Mississippi State to be terrible.

The National League & the Designated Hitter

Alex Rodriguez holds the two biggest contracts in Major League Baseball history. After beginning his career in the Pacific Northwest with the Seattle Mariners, he decided to leave for big money in the Lone Star State, signing a massive deal worth $252 million over 10 seasons with the Texas Rangers, then the all-time biggest contract, at the ripe of age of 25.  Subsequently, the Rangers traded him, after only three seasons, to (of course) the New York Yankees. Later, when he could, A-Rod opted out of his contract only to sign another one, this second contract topping the first: $275 million over 10 seasons, ending in 2017—if he can avoid the Wrath of Selig. While I’m too young to remember who really went after Rodriguez after he left the Mariners, it’s not at all surprising that the Rangers, an American League West team, would sign him to a long-term deal, and that the Yankees, Lords of the American League East, would later acquire him.

Two winters ago, Albert Pujols left the St. Louis Cardinals for the Los Angeles Angels, signing what today is still the third largest contract in MLB’s history at 10 years, $240 million. It seemed like just about every big-market team went after Pujols, who led a storied career in St. Louis, including winning two World Series Championships. The final three came down to St. Louis, the Angels, and the recently renamed Miami Marlins. The Machine, as Pujols at one time was called, felt jilted by the Cardinals when the front office cut in half the years in their offer, from ten to five, and balked with the Marlins when they refused to give him a no-trade clause*. Almost by default, he chose the Angels, which seems just about right given his age when he signed the deal—32 on opening day that year—plus the length of the deal and the fact that he will most likely spend the twilight years of his career not playing in the field but exclusively hitting.

*Turns out he rightfully refused to sign with Miami, as everyone the team signed that offseason, they later exiled to Canada when the owner, Jeffrey Loria, realized that you can’t win a championship solely through free agency.

And then, most recently, Robinson Cano, a slugging second baseman who cut his teeth with the Yankees, matched Pujols’ deal by signing with A-Rod’s original team, the Seattle Mariners. Cano played nine seasons in New York, and now, at age 30, will embark on new endeavors with a team—which is tired of losing—that has now severely overcompensated for relevance. The next closest offer to Cano came from his previous team—7 years, $170 million. Really, with Cano, the only two teams that seemed destined to sign him were the Mariners or the Yankees. Other teams were mentioned—the Rangers, for instance—but nothing substantial grew from those rumors. It came down to Seattle and New York, and as the Yankees’ GM said, “[They] Yankee’d us.”

For Cano, no National League teams were considered favorites, despite several teams—Phillies, Cubs, Dodgers—having the money to bid on him.

Why?

It’s the same reason why Alex Rodriguez has only signed bloated deals with two American League teams and why Pujols chose the Angels:

The Designated Hitter.

The American League has had the DH for over forty seasons now, introducing it back in 1973. For those of you don’t know, well, you probably don’t exist, but anyway: the DH is simply a player allowed to bat in place of the pitcher.

The National League does not use designated hitters unless playing in an American League team’s ballpark, such as during inter-league play or an away game in the World Series. Otherwise, the pitcher hits in the NL.

I could go through the history of the DH much more, including a debate on whether such a player deserves enshrinement in Cooperstown (something I and Mr. Leap discussed a while back), but I won’t. Instead, I’ll just point out the two greatest DH’s in the history of the game: Edgar Martinez of the Mariners and David Ortiz, formerly of the Minnesota Twins, current star for the Boston Red Sox.

Sticking with Martinez and Ortiz a moment: neither one of them began their careers as designated hitters. Martinez played 2,055 games in his career, 564 of them at third with another 28 at first, leaving at least 1,463 games played as the designated hitter. Ortiz has appeared in 1,969 games, playing only 263 games at first, appearing as the designated hitter at least 1,706 times. What these numbers tell us is that the game always has a spot for spectacular hitters—and that spot is in the American League.

Which begs the question: why doesn’t the National League adopt Major League Baseball Rule 6.10, or something similar? Why don’t both leagues have the designated hitter?

I can only guess as to why the designated hitter was introduced in the first place. My best guess is that it was supposed to differentiate things between the leagues—the NL is where the pitcher hits, and the AL is where another, “regular” athlete hits in the pitcher’s place.

The owners also adopted the rule, probably, to create more offense in the game, which the public demands. Only a very small percentage of baseball fans (myself included) would enjoy a closely-contested pitching duel that may go into extra innings only to end in a 1-0 score. An even smaller percentage of baseball fans (myself excluded) would enjoy such a game on a regular basis.

An unexpected side-effect, I’m sure, of the designated hitter is that it allows poor fielders and older ballplayers to extend their careers by exclusively batting, enabling them to spend very little time—if any—on the field while still putting the bat on the ball.

Martinez didn’t play defense too well, and Ortiz started aging rather rapidly during his tenure in Minnesota. Thus, the Mariners decided to stick with one of their better hitters by slotting him into the DH spot while the Twins dumped Ortiz, and he landed in Boston, where the Red Sox have perfectly used their left-handed slugger.

Some teams, like the Kansas City Royals, decided to groom players as designated hitters early in their careers. Prime example: Billy Butler, a young, but sub-par, first baseman. But as one of the team’s best, and most consistent, hitters, he has been the team’s DH for years. And this is the right way to go when dealing with designated hitters. Seattle, I feel, did it first, and other teams, like the Red Sox and Royals, have caught on: paying players to exclusively hit is no longer taboo.

But how much should teams be willing to pay a player just so he can hit?

This is probably the best argument for the National League to adopt the designated hitter rule: it will enable them to sign high-priced, big-named stars to long-term deals, ensuring that they will have a spot for that player when he ages to a point where he can no longer play a position. Instead of an American League bidding war for Robinson Cano, National League teams with money to spend—like the Cubs—can get into the action, attract more fans to the stadium during the player’s prime, and then move that player to the DH when his legs start giving way to Father Time.

As it is now, the Cubs couldn’t possibly afford to sign Cano—they could afford the amount per year, yes, but they couldn’t afford the number of years. There is no DH when teams play at Wrigley Field, and thus, there is no room on the roster for a 39-, 40-year old Robinson Cano who can only take the field every-so-often while still making $24 million for every 162 games.

And there’s the catch: the best argument for the National League to adopt the DH is also the worst argument for the National League to adopt the DH—without the assistance of performance enhancing drugs, there is no why in hell that a player will be worth $24 million per season while in his upper-thirties-to-early-forties to just hit.

Another argument for having the NL adopt the DH is that the DH makes the AL that much stronger than the NL. I don’t buy into this. Looking at World Series championships alone, and going back to 1999, the American League has won 8 to the National League’s 7. Is that one difference enough to make the NL change its identity? No, it’s now. Would we be thinking about getting rid of the DH if the National League held that 8-7 advantage? No, we wouldn’t.

There’s more to it than just the World Series, like interleague play. The American League has dominated interleague play since MLB introduced it in 1997. Looking at total wins by league, the NL has only conquered the AL four different times, the last time coming in 2003. Overall, the American League owns a .524 winning percentage in all interleague games since the wayward inception.

Enough to persuade the NL to adopt the DH? Gimme a break.

For one thing, World Series championships are much, much more important than interleague games. Secondly, the fact that AL teams are the only ones able to spend the years on these players reveals something else: National League teams are more fully able to fully develop a team from the ground-up while (mostly) avoiding guys who want to sign past their field expiration-date.

Granted, Alex Rodriguez, Albert Pujols and Robinson Cano all still play the field—but for how long? For how long of their 10-season deals will each regularly occupy a position around the diamond?

It’s going to be very interesting to see how the ends of these contracts play out. Maybe not A-Rod’s—for that could happen sooner rather than later—but for Pujols, Cano, and other guys—Prince Fielder, Joe Mauer. And the contracts aren’t just in the American League. Joey Votto has a top deal, as do Matt Kemp and Troy Tulowitzki—and all three appear injury-prone.

Will the Angels be set back for years to come because of the Pujols deal? Will they try to move him, or buy him out—say, when Mike Trout is no longer team-controlled? What about the Mariners? And the smaller-market teams, like the Twins, Reds and Rockies?

What will happen?

For the National League teams, without the DH, the answer is harder.

The answer is easier for the American League teams—just move the guy to the DH and pay him $20+ million to sit on the bench and swing the bat.

Regardless, neither answer is pretty, or enviable. Playing careers will be scarred, managing and front office jobs will be lost, and franchises could fall years behind their competitors.

Then again, maybe I’m overestimating the whole thing—maybe there’s more money to go around in baseball that I can fathom—and maybe everything will end smoothly and gracefully, and these ballplayers won’t go out like Willie Mays, but instead like Ted Williams.

One thing is for certain: teams that have signed players in their thirties to ten-year deals have automatically cut in half—at least—their number of potential trade partners. There’s no way that in seven or eight seasons, the Pirates, say, would deal for Cano, Pujols, Votto or Tulo. Same goes for the other fourteen NL teams. Only American League teams would be able to make such a deal, and unless the team receiving the aging hitter gets the team giving him up to also fork over a large chunk of cash, then the deal won’t be worth it. This is just another layer to the ultimate reason why the NL should never adopt the DH.

Quite honestly, I hope the National League avoids the designated hitter. Change is good in some instances—like abolishing collisions at home-plate and introducing replay for certain plays—but not always. Change for the American League turned out great in 1973, but to do that to the National League would certainly impede its identity, and that’s something the game doesn’t need. Baseball’s amount of parity is doing just fine despite only one league being to attract some of the game’s biggest names. Whatever ends up happening with these big, long-term contracts, I don’t think implementing the DH into the National League is going to fix anything—short- or long-term. And as far as I know, no one is really suggesting that the DH be implemented into the NL because the stars of the game flock toward the AL.

But it is a solution.

Just a terrible one.

Fishing Expedition: The Mike Trout What-If Game

In the 2009 MLB draft, twenty-one teams passed on selecting the current leading American League Rookie-of-the-Year candidate (and outside MVP candidate), Angels centerfielder Mike Trout. Two teams—the Nationals and Diamondbacks—passed on Trout twice.

Now, excluding Trout, this draft looks to be one of the deepest in recent years: Washington selected Stephen Strasburg first overall and then their currently injured closer, Drew Storen, tenth; Kansas City took All-Star pitcher Aaron Crow 12^th; Cleveland took a pitcher (Alex White) they packaged in last year’s megadeal that landed them Ubaldo Jimenez; and the Cardinals took pitcher Shelby Miller, the team’s best prospect.

Who’s to say that Trout would be as good as he is now if developed in a different organization’s farm system? Who’s to say he’d be hitting, fielding and stealing bases as well if not surrounded in the lineup by the likes of Kendrys Morales, Mark Trumbo and Albert Pujols?

Mike Trout could help any of the teams that passed on him. He currently leads the AL in batting average and stolen bases, made perhaps the catch of the year when robbing Baltimore’s J.J. Hardy of a homerun last month and has helped a struggling team get into the playoff mix since his promotion.

Yeah, any team would love to have this guy in their lineup, in their outfield—and twenty-one of those teams are still kicking themselves for not seeing this happening.

Still—and this is the fun thing about writing something like this—it’s fun to think of different what ifs. And I do that with the only two teams I care about, and one other team, because had this third team taken Trout, they would be absolutely scary for the next decade—at least.

But first: the Missouri teams.

Kansas City Royals—Pick: 12. Selection: RHP Aaron Crow, University of Missouri

The Royals used their first-round pick in 2009 to select Mizzou’s Aaron Crow, who debuted in 2011, pitched in 57 games out of the bullpen (excluding the Mid-Summer Classic), accumulated 62 innings of work in which he had a WHIP of 1.39 and ERA 2.76. He won four, lost four and saved zero while blowing seven save opportunities*.

*I’m getting my info from Baseball-Reference.com. I imagine the seven blown saves were not in games Crow entered in the 9^th, but rather somewhere between the 6^th and 8^th. I do not have the numbers on how the team went on to do in these seven games—though if Crow’s record is any indication (and that’s a SWAG on my part), they won about half of them.

Overall, a solid rookie campaign on a team that drafts and develops relief pitchers better than any other organization.

Plus, Crow gives the Royals, a team starving for starting pitching after several of its starting prospects have either digressed, stopped progressing or injured themselves, the option of moving him into the rotation. Though that hasn’t happened this year, it could next season. I imagine they would cap his innings, much like Washington is doing with Strasburg this year or the White Sox with Chris Sale.

Further, Crow could move into the closer’s spot this season if the Royals deal Jonathan Broxton to a contender. With Joakim Soria out this entire season, it couldn’t harm the Royals to plug Crow into that ever-important role* down the stretch. And considering Soria’s history of injuries, Crow could be the team’s permanent closer in the future.

*I think teams put too much stock into closers because they don’t last that long (career-wise) and could cost more than the rest of the bullpen combined.

 What I’m trying to say is, the Royals did well by drafting Crow. He’s a stellar middle-reliever*who gives the team the flexibility of keeping him where he is, moving him into the rotation or moving him into the closer’s role. He’ll be pitching for the Royals, in any capacity, for years to come.

*His numbers are a bit up this year, but he’s still anchoring that ‘pen.

 Still, Crow is almost five years older than Mike Trout. When this draft took place—Trey Hillman still the boss, Zack Greinke still the ace—the Royals played Mitch Maier in center for 127 games while the ever-disappointing (not to mention, injured) Coco Crisp did the rest. David DeJesus and Willie Bloomquist also dabbled a bit in center, but otherwise, the Royals sent out to the most important outfield position players such as Josh Anderson and Ryan Freel.

Yeah…them.

But the starting rotation, other than Greinke, looked a hell of a lot worse:

Gil Meche (two years after his only good season for the Royals).

Brian Bannister.

Kyle Davies

And—wait for it—Luke How-Is-He-Still-In-The-Majors Hochevar.

A lot of other pitchers went through Kansas City that year—the team used more than 20 overall with a dozen of them starting at least one game. So, going into the draft—which occurred in June—it makes sense that they would grab a (local) pitcher.

Looking at the team now, Crow looks like the right selection. The team would eventually deal Greinke to Milwaukee and, as only part of the deal, acquire current centerfielder Lorenzo Cain. Right now, the outfield looks good with Alex Gordon in left, Cain manning center, and Frenchy occupying right until Wil Myers gets called to The Show.

Gordon-Cain-Myers looks damn good, and while Gordon-Trout-Myers may look a little better, the flexibility that Crow offers the pitching staff makes passing on Trout worthwhile.

St. Louis Cardinals—Pick: 19. Selection: RHP Shelby Miller, Brownwood High School (TX)

At the time, the Cardinals regularly sent out Colby Rasmus to patrol centerfield. A smooth-swinging lefty who could hit for power and average, Rasmus glided around center, making hard plays look routine, and to boot, had a cannon of an arm. He reminded St. Louis faithful of another centerfield with a sweet-looking swing, the one who helped capture the 2006 World Series: Jim Edmonds.

And so, at the draft, GM John Mozeliak and VP Jeff Luhnow (now Houston’s GM) probably didn’t think too much of the outfielder from the high school in New Jersey. Instead, they grabbed a strong-throwing right-hander that could eventually develop into a number one starter, or who could be the centerpiece of a trade down some future pennant race: Shelby Miller.

Switch to present day: Rasmus is gone after failing to listen to now-retired manager Tony La Russa, getting shipped out to Toronto last trade deadline. He never lived up to the hype in St. Louis, and after finishing last year in Triple-A Las Vegas, has been putting together a decent year north of the border.

In his place, the Cardinals start Jon Jay, another lefty, who only reminds drunken Cardinal fans of Edmonds. His numbers really aren’t that bad, but he’ll never develop into anything worth remembering, and the new St. Louis regime may need to look into getting a new centerfielder in the near future.

Yet—the staff needs more help than the outfield. Jay can hold his own, and while he’s certainly not on the track to superstardom a la Trout, he fills a void. The staff, however, is in trouble: Adam Wainwright doesn’t look to be 100% (or even 80%, for that matter) back after missing an entire season; Kyle Lohse is unpredictable; Jake Westbrook is too inconsistent; Jaime Garcia is injured; and Joe Adams still looks raw. Lance Lynn, a pleasant surprise who made the All-Star team, is about the only bright spot in the Cardinals’ rotation, and he appears to be slowing down after a fast start.

Most worrisome, though, is a guy who hasn’t touched the ball this season: Chris Carpenter.

Carpenter, who locked horns with Roy Halladay last season in a do-or-die Game 5 of the NLDS, winning 1-0, is out for the entire year, and this isn’t the first time that’s happened to him. As a member of the Blue Jays, he missed the entire 2003 season after starting only 13 games in 2002, and appeared in only in 5 games for the Cardinals between the 2007-2008 seasons. Now, at age 37, he’s missing another full season. Just looking at his age, he doesn’t have much left. Taking into account his injuries, he has even less.

Which means: drafting Miller was a smart thing to do. He’s struggling a bit at Triple-A, but overall, he has a strong (albeit high) ERA and an average WHIP. But it’s his strikeouts-per-nine-innings that looks great: currently, it’s at 11.1. It’s no wonder that when teams engage the Cardinals in trade talks, the top name most often mentioned is Shelby Miller.

And the Cardinals’ answer has been, thus far, the same: No.

But what about Trout?

The Cardinals offense has been dynamite this season. They rank 5^th in the majors in runs while not relying solely on the long ball, 2^nd in the majors in batting average, tied for 1^st in on-base percentage, 7^th in slugging and 5^th in OPS. They’re doing this the season after losing the best player in recent memory, and they’re doing it with old guys (Carlos Beltran, Lance Berkman) and young guys (David Freese, Yadier Molina) alike. This offense looks good, and should remain together for at least one more season, possibly more.

And while I’m not a fan of Jon Jay, he gets it done. Still, it’s hard to think about the potential outfield of Matt Holliday-Trout-Beltran and not wonder what if.

Then again, if Miller dominates in the majors after he gets promoted—even if it takes a couple of seasons to reach that point—then passing on Trout for Miller would definitely be worth it.

Washington Nationals—Pick: 10. Selection: RHP Drew Storen, Stanford University.

The Nationals already owned the top pick, and took the obvious choice: Stephen Strasburg. And even though he got injured, he’s returned nicely and looks like he could win multiple Cy Young Awards—not to mention deliver a championship or two to the nation’s capital.

But the Nationals also had the number 10 pick—compensation for failing to reach an agreement with their first-round pick from the previous year, Aaron Crow. The Nationals selected a righty from the Stanford Cardinal team, Drew Storen.

Storen made his debut in 2010 at age 22, pitching in 54 games, mostly one inning at a time. His numbers eerily shadow Crow’s rookie numbers. But the next season, Washington made Storen their closer, and he exceeded expectations, converting 43 of 48 save opportunities with an ERA at 2.75. It looked like the Nationals had struck gold with both of their 2009 first-round picks.

But then, an injury, and Storen has yet to pitch in the 2012 season. In his place, the Nationals have used Tyler Clippard, a 27-year old reliever acquired in a 2007 trade with the Yankees. Before this season, Clippard was a nasty middle-reliever (he won the 2011 All-Star Game) who finished last season with an ERA below 2, but this year, manager Davey Johnson has used him mostly as a closer, and he’s converted 14 of 16 opportunities with a 2.45 ERA in just over 40 innings pitched.

Now, consider this: when Storen returns, who will be the closer? Yes, the pitcher on the short-end of that question will return to the middle innings, and will most likely dominate those innings, but wouldn’t Mike Trout look so much better fielding center and in the lineup with the likes of Ryan Zimmerman, Bryce Harper, Ian Desmond and Adam LaRoche than, say, Rick Ankiel?

Just think of that trio of batters: Zimmerman, Harper, Trout.

Zimmerman is locked up for the long haul, and Harper and Trout could have risen through the minors together, debuted together and, together, have led this team to their first division title since moving the D.C.

Bryce Harper and Mike Trout could’ve been teammates, could’ve followed each other in the lineup and could’ve controlled the Nationals outfield for years to come.

But instead, Washington drafted a closer. And Trout fell to the 25^th pick, passed by twenty-one teams, and two teams twice.

Hell, even the Angels passed on him.