2012

Timing is everything. Pujols signed his massive deal with the eleventh-hour bridegroom Los Angeles Angels after a protracted negotiation with St. Louis. Now, his timing at the plate is all out-of-whack. He’s lunging at breaking balls and swinging through meatballs. And yet, nobody is truly afraid. Albert takes advantage of the grace period for adjustment and regresses in the general direction of his expectations. He finishes the year batting something like .268 with 23 home runs. The Angels don’t make the playoffs, but C.J. Wilson reaches 200,000 followers on Twitter.

2013

Pujols bats .437 in April, .393 in May, and then .000 the rest of the season, after breaking his wrist more severely than in 2011, when he returned after just two weeks. Thankfully for the Angels, Kendrys Morales plays like players are supposed to play in walk years, Mike Trout lights up the American League, and C.J. Wilson pitches like Yu Darvish. The team makes a playoff run without him. Pujols’ leadership skills are much praised.

2014

Pujols spends the entire offseason in conference with former manager Tony La Russa and pastor Rick Warren of Orange County’s Saddleback Church. The reflective trio takes long, pensive walks along the beach, discussing purpose-driven baseball, the Demise of the Old School, and how Albert can pack the force of a thousand eternities into each dinger for the upcoming season. Meanwhile, a jealous Mike Scioscia tiptoes behind them, peering over hedges and through tinted car windows, fearful of his power being usurped. And as Pujols reverts to his old self, batting .328 with 34 home runs, Scioscia devolves into an increasingly paranoid, reclusive figure, constantly devising excuses to bench Pujols, but never acting on them.

2015

After years of decreasing offensive output, Major League Baseball legalizes all steroids, but Albert Pujols refuses to take them, saying from a podium in front of the plastic boulders in center field at Angel Stadium that the people of Orange County would never stand for anything so artificial. As a full-time designated hitter, Pujols hits like a 35-year-old might. He bats .296 with 29 home runs. More than one columnist refers to him as a “right-handed David Ortiz.”