Will Mike Trout ever be truly great again?

ANAHEIM, Calif. — In the days leading up to Mike Trout’s expected return from a torn meniscus, team officials asked the three-time MVP to sit down with them.

They had cobbled together videos depicting the evolution of his swing since 2016. The Angels were trying to discern why Trout was striking out more, walking less and trending away from his once-robust offensive profile.

“You’re trying to find similarities to what he did when he was the best player in the game,” Angels hitting coach Johnny Washington said. “You’re trying to find commonalities of what he did before, and compare to now, to piece that thing back together. I think if he can get close to that, we should see a better version of Mike Trout.”

Trout’s baseball existence is now focused on that singular goal: To resemble the singular talent he was before injuries derailed his career. His eventual place in Cooperstown remains assured. But his time as one of baseball’s best players appears to have ended. The milestones that once seemed so assured — 3,000 hits, 500 home runs, 1,500 RBIs — may be out of reach, as he has averaged only 66 games per season since 2021 and hasn’t played in more than 140 since 2016.

At 33, limited by a knee injury to only 29 games in 2024, he has often referenced “my old self” or “the old Mike Trout” in the context of recapturing his former greatness, the form that carried him to three American League MVP trophies and 11 All-Star appearances.

“It’s in there,” Trout said, “for sure.”

The Athletic sat down with Trout earlier this month, and spoke to others in the Angels’ orbit to better understand how he’ll navigate his future amid a spate of physical ailments, elongated recoveries and a notable drop in offensive production. Some requested anonymity to speak freely about a player who still commands respect and admiration from current and former Angels players, coaches and executives.

After this lost season, Trout still has six years and $216 million owed to him on the 12-year, $426 million extension he signed heading into 2019. The contract has become an albatross in the eyes of some rival executives. The only way to salvage the deal would require a revival from Trout. Which invites a host of questions. Can he stay healthy? Will he be able to navigate his aging body? And will he be able to accept being a very good player, even if he might never be among the best again?

At his apex, which began during his Rookie of the Year breakout in 2012 and continued into his final MVP campaign in 2019, Trout dominated in all areas of the game. During those eight seasons, he was worth 23.4 more wins above replacement than the next most valuable player, according to FanGraphs. His effort was palpable on the bases, in the field and at the plate. He played with such exertion that some Angels officials wondered if a breakdown was inevitable.

The past few years have been far less productive. In 2021, Trout suffered a calf strain in mid-May. He was supposed to miss six to eight weeks. Instead, he never returned. In 2022, he missed a month with a back injury. Last year, a broken hamate in early July forced him to miss the season’s entire second half, save for one game. And, now, in 2024, Trout required three months to come back from a torn meniscus, then tore it again before playing in another major league game. During the past four seasons, Trout ranks 49th in WAR, wedged between Ian Happ and Teoscar Hernández, a pair of quality outfielders who are unlikely to join him in Cooperstown.

“I’m not really looking at the Trout of old because he’s got some years on him,” Angels manager Ron Washington said. “But Mike Trout is Mike Trout. And I’ll take Mike Trout if he’s Mike Trout, healthy.”

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To understand Trout is to understand that behind the friendly demeanor is a fanatical perfectionist.

One executive estimated only one in 10 players arrive at spring training even in the range of their specific offseason goals. Yet if he says he wants to come into camp at 218 pounds with a specific body fat percentage, then that’s exactly what he’ll do, nearly to the decimal point. He thrives on competition, no matter the forum. Playing games of H-O-R-S-E in the batting cage before games, chucking water bottles into a tiny trash can with teammates, dueling with friends in video games like “Clash of Clans.” A video went viral in the spring of 2020 capturing his monstrous drive at a Phoenix-area Top Golf.

Yet on the baseball field, he has had fewer and fewer opportunities to compete over these last few years. And at times, he has eschewed chances to return when, at least in theory, he could have played — though, crucially, he might not have been at his best. In April, he was given the option to DH all year instead of getting surgery for his torn meniscus. “It was an option they put out there,” Trout said. “I felt the best option for me was to get it right.” And last season, Trout returned for only one game after breaking his hamate six weeks prior, instead opting to shut himself down for the season. Both instances would have required playing at less than 100 percent. And in both instances, the team was not in the playoff race.

Trout flatly denied that his elongated recoveries from injuries had anything to do with a hesitancy to play if he couldn’t perform up to his own expectations.

“Nah,” he said, then repeated it quickly seven more times.

The absences and the delayed returns do still beg the question of how Trout can navigate the realities of aging to stay on the field, and remain productive.

“I really haven’t felt right at the plate in the last three or four years,” Trout said. “I don’t know what it is. There are some things that I think it is, but I’m not going to go into any specifics. I think there’s some things over the years where I just created a habit, and I’ve just gotta get out of the habit.”

The evidence resides in the swings and misses. Trout has begun whiffing more often in recent years — 27.5 percent in 2021, 30.2 percent in 2022 and 29.3 percent last year. In the four seasons prior, that number never rose above 20 percent. He has begun missing more pitches in the strike zone, the sort of pitches he used to punish. His whiff rate on fastballs reached 31 percent in 2022, compared to 18.6 percent in his 2019 MVP campaign.

This year, in 29 games, Trout hit 10 homers. But his batting average was just .220 — nearly 80 points below his career average of .299.

“Sometimes when your head’s moving so much and you’re not in the right spot, you get defensive,” Trout said. “Instead of being up there thinking you’re going to drive the ball, you’re just trying to see it.

“My first 10 years in the league, I’m going in the box, and you’re not getting me out. That’s the mentality. The mentality has been the same the last few years. But the results are not there.”

“I don’t think it’s one size fits all with Mike,” Johnny Washington said. “A lot of times, most hitters, it’s a lower half issue. Getting the lower half into a better position, and that way syncing up the body to where you can work. … I think it’s finding out where he was most consistent, then trying to piece it back together. Which takes time. And hopefully we get there.”

All of this is why Trout has become more open to making changes next season. In 2022, when manager Joe Maddon floated the possibility of Trout moving out of center field, Trout balked. Earlier this season, he scoffed at the idea of becoming a regular DH.

Trout stands 6-foot-2 and weighs 235, with a build more commonly seen from a bulky NFL safety or an undersized linebacker. The Angels believe his size has played a role in his various ailments. Various people referred to them as “freak injuries.” They’re all in different places, and all areas where he’s never been hurt. The common thread is a large physique, pushed on a daily basis at a premium position. He acknowledged, after 13 years in the bigs, all of that could be playing a role.

That’s why he’s now said he’s willing to move off center field and DH more. Anything to be a great hitter again, and simply stay on the field.

“When stuff’s not going your way, you’ve got to make adjustments,” Trout said. “If moving over, and the statistics say that the corner outfield helps you with your legs, then it’s something you’ve got to explore.”

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For the first time in a long time, Trout is fed up with the situation around him. Or, at least, he’s willing to publicly express it.

“A couple additions in the offseason could make a big difference,” Trout told The Athletic. “It’s all up to the owner. I think that’s where we’re at.”

Directly calling out team owner Arte Moreno was a novel concept to Trout before this season. His Hall of Fame resume and massive contract arguably make him the most powerful employee in the organization. Trout has seldom chosen to leverage that power, often opting to toe the company line.

At the start of spring training, following a dormant offseason, he conveyed a desire for the team to continue adding in free agency. It didn’t happen. Now, the Angels are at risk of completing their worst season in franchise history.

“It’s been 10 years now since we’ve made the playoffs,” Trout said regarding his newfound willingness to speak out. “I think that has something to do with it. I think the fans want playoff baseball like everybody else.”

His contract runs through his age-39 season. At the time he signed his extension, the Angels were in a competitive lull. That lull has become an annual downward spiral. Nine straight years of losing records. Ten since their last postseason berth. Fifteen years since their last postseason win.

The juxtaposition of Trout’s greatness with the club’s futility has long generated questions about a trade. Maddon suggested that Trout might only be able to flourish for a team besides the Angels.

“If I had one wish, it would be that he’d be able to participate with a team that has a chance to get to the playoffs,” Maddon said. “A team that’s able to rest him on a consistent basis — even if he may not want that. Or put him in a position that takes a little stress off him. Just to get him on the field.”

That possibility, suggested Maddon — who was fired by the Angels midway through the 2022 season — is unlikely in Anaheim. “It’s not easy with everything that’s gone on there over the years,” Maddon said. “It’s just been tough. It’s a tough place to be right now.”

Reality suggests Trout is unlikely to leave. Given the age, injury history and financial commitment, one executive said the Angels would have to eat more than half the money just to bring a potential partner to the table. Asked how difficult it would be to move Trout, another rival executive said, “Incredibly.”

Beyond the financials, there’s an oft-forgotten no-trade clause attached to Trout’s contract. Trout is nothing if not loyal. He’s obsessed with his beloved Philadelphia Eagles. He married his high school sweetheart. He’s stayed with his agent, Craig Landis, whose primary responsibility is representing his star client.

Trout has made clear he wants to stay with one team his whole career. He wants to know what success tastes like with a franchise that’s desperate for it. But on top of that, Anaheim offers comfort. A low-stakes environment with fans that will love him no matter what. That certainly would not be true in Philadelphia, New York or Boston.

Calling on ownership in the spring to make a change is a step. But team sources said it did little to register with Moreno. And there remains little recourse for him to move teams. Because of all that, he faces the very real possibility of playing out the string of a Hall of Fame career for a franchise without obvious reasons for hope, watching his production slip as he tries annually to stay healthy.

That trajectory reminded one former Angels official of another high-octane, five-tool star whose production cratered when injuries wrecked his 30s.

Trout, the official mused, once wore the nickname “Kiiiiid” on his back for Players Weekend.

“Who else had the nickname, the Kid? (Ken) Griffey Jr., did. They played that way. They come up, they’re so impactful, and they’re like, ‘Man, I can do this forever.’”

Looking at the comparable career arcs offers an obvious conclusion: You can’t be a kid forever.

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Earlier this season, veteran Angels outfielder Taylor Ward called 24-year-old catcher Logan O’Hoppe “our captain.”

“I think he is the leader of this team,” Ward said. “I believe wholeheartedly in him. He’s a leader. A born leader.”

It was not a shot at Trout. It was a compliment to O’Hoppe, who certainly has natural leadership characteristics. But it’s hard to hear that and not think of the 13-year all-time great, whose stature and presence would make him the de facto leader in many clubhouses.

He might not be the prototypical lead-from-the-front type; Trout won’t flip over a table, or dress down a rookie. But he will grab an iPad in the dugout and go over an at-bat with a teammate if he feels he can help. Doing that more, he said, is the only silver lining in this entire experience.

During his first weekend as a big league pitcher, rookie Caden Dana got a surprise offer. The Angels put the 20-year-old up in a hotel 10 minutes from the ballpark. Typically, players staying at the hotel will gather into cars to shuttle back and forth. After this game, however, the Angels’ No. 1 prospect had a different means of transportation. Trout wanted to give him a lift.

“A lot of guys that come up, they’re walking on eggshells,” Trout said. “I think for me to be able to calm him down a little bit. It’s having a conversation with him, just to get to know him.

“I had a lot of great conversations with the younger guys too, like (Logan) O’Hoppe and (Zach) Neto about how to be a true Major League Baseball player. I had this in the beginning of the season, just what you’re going to go through, and how to get out of it. And how to stay of one mind about what your ultimate goal is.”

Much has waned for Trout. His health. His abilities. His pathway to ever carry a team to a World Series. But this is one area where he still thrives.

When he does play again, Angels general manager Perry Minasian said that he expected Trout to hit 70 home runs next year. He predicted another MVP would be added to his trophy case.

Perhaps it was hyperbolic. Minasian was likely speaking more to his hopes than his beliefs. The actuarial tables offer little reason for that kind of outsized optimism given the last four seasons. A regularly injured player is unlikely to round back into MVP form as he prepares to turn 34 years old.

“Two years ago, he hit 40 home runs in 118 games,” said Phil Nevin, Trout’s former manager. “And he started off this year on that same pace. So it’s all still there.”

But, Nevin also acknowledged a fact that, for Trout and everyone else, is unavoidable.

“Is anything going to look, when you’re 32, like it does when you’re 22? No, I don’t think there’s ever been a player like that.”

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After Trout re-tore his meniscus, the normally accessible superstar opted not to speak with the media for a month.

He almost never appeared in the Angels clubhouse during the press window or on-field batting practice. During that time, he never offered an explanation as to how he re-injured his knee. It hadn’t happened during his brief rehab assignment at Triple-A Salt Lake. But how did it happen? It wasn’t until last week that Trout said he wasn’t sure how it happened.

Trout is typically a front-facing figure. He signs for fans constantly, and takes pictures with them if they ask. Anything the team asks of him — meeting a kid on-field pregame or going out in the community, he’s game.

Speaking would have generated the public buzz rife with questions about his future and his fitness. Re-ignite the public narrative of his perceived decline. He chose to simply avoid allowing for that conversation altogether.

For so long, the only narratives surrounding Trout were of his greatness. The only controversy was whether he’d been snubbed out of an AL MVP award.

When people talk about Trout now, it’s in the context of how injuries have shaved years off his prime. It’s about how he’s trapped on a team unable to field a winning product around him.

“Trout’s been through a lot, he’s seen a lot,” said Torii Hunter earlier this season. Hunter was Trout’s teammate when he was first called up, and quickly became a mentor.

“He’s been through injuries and strikeouts and struggles and slumps. A guy like myself, all I can do is help him remember. Sometimes you’ve got to remember where you’ve been and what you’ve been through in life.”

He’ll always be one of the game’s greatest hitters, and a surefire Hall of Famer. But there’s a good chance he won’t have the counting stats or postseason accolades that typically accompany other Cooperstown inductees. A fact that he recognizes.

“A lot of things go through your head,” Trout said, “when you’re sitting on the bench watching your teammates play and you can’t get out there.”

The Angel Stadium team store remains a shrine to Trout. There’s one rack of Anthony Rendon jerseys. Another for shortstop Zach Neto. Nearly everything else has “Trout” or “27” or both.

Trout’s relevance in the baseball world has subsided. In years past, even when he was hurt, he was still voted an All-Star game starter. He did not merit consideration this year.

The question now is if Trout will stay what he is — a marketable figurehead in a city that will always love him. He may still be in pursuit of being the old Mike Trout — even if those around him believe he needs to accept no longer being the best in order to be the best version of himself.

“Those things will come if I’m on the field. That’s plain and simple,” Trout said. “I think if I’m on the field and playing my game, then all that other great stuff will follow.”

(Illustration by Kelsea Petersen, The Athletic; Photos: Brandon Slotter / Getty Images; Baltimore Sun/ Getty Images; Paul Rutherford / Getty Images)