Mike Trout Charged for the Post-Season

Well the Angels jumbotron has been functioning as an annoying between-innings commercial for most of the Moreno regime's grip on power and you would be hard pressed to get me to spend a dime on any of the laughably sucker-hungry come-ons that bark so loud for our attention that they ruin the moment and engender contempt.

But one David Courtney-narrated announcement got me up off my feet and headed to the team store on Monday. The announcement that limited edition Angels American League All Star Jerseys were for sale in the team store. There was the picture of our four All Stars: C.J. Wilson, Jered Weaver, Mark Trumbo and Mike "The Franchise" Trout.

Well the powder blue of the KC region is easy to spot in the Scarlet confines of the Angels team store. And this is considering that the racks were crowded with shoppers. These All Star Batting Practice Jersey were emblazoned with a royally crowned text of "American" across the chest, but every shopper was angled to thumb thru the hangers and look at the back of each one. The name on the back of the jersey was what mattered. And of the four names, only one mattered to the twelve or so shoppers I encountered. Mike Trout.

Everyone was looking for a Trout Jersey. There were none. They were sold out we were told. The run of these jerseys was a limited edition. There would be no more.

I've seen a lot of things in the 38 seasons of Angels baseball that comprise my ongoing fandom and game attendance. From the certainty of the Express on the mound, thru the sublime satisfaction of signing Reggie to the frenzy of Wally World and the depths of souvenir pennants announcing the "New Mo-Lenium" before the turn of the century. From the debut of the Rally Monkey thru the Thunderstick X formation in the stands for Little David to the reggaeton ovations for Frankie's entrances into the game.

But I have never seen a dozen people heed an Arte Moreno jumbotron commercial only to find that the master of marketing is out of the big ticket item that he is advertising. Like the hypothesis of quantum physics a century ago revealed the limits of Einstein's comprehension, the phenomena of Mike Trout has actually exceeded the capabilities of Arte Moreno's ability to corral all available fan dollars. Can you imagine the vortex that awaits us in October?