Bryce Harper is going to overshadow Mike Trout for the next decade

Painfully obvious disclaimer: Mike Trout has been the best player in baseball for the last four seasons. He’s just 24, so he’s probably going to be the best baseball player for the next four seasons, at least. He’s a marvel, a wonder, a generational talent that we can’t take for granted. It’s Mike Trout’s world, and we’re behind on the rent.

This is not about talent or production, though. It’s not even about value, like it was when we compared Carlos Correa to Trout in a spiritual prequel to this article. This is about perception. You might not remember the Bryce Harper versus Mike Trout debates of 2011 and 2012, with Manny Machado partisans collectively filling the role of a neglected Green Party candidate, but they were fierce and fun. Then Trout ate the sun and gave birth to the moon, and the debates were over. For a while.

Last year, though, Harper had one of the greatest offensive seasons of the modern era, the first performance close to a Bondsian jape that we’ve seen since Barry Bonds retired. This year, Harper is doing even better, building on his reputation as the most feared hitter in baseball, the slugger who is simply impossible to pitch to. Sure, he’s hit against only Braves, Phillies, and Marlins pitching this year, but he’s also doing exactly what he’s supposed to against inexperienced pitching. He’s controlling the strike zone like a 12-year veteran, even though he’s the age of a prospect, and he’s hitting home runs that shatter dimensional planes.

Trout is still probably better. Stop composing that email and/or tweet. But from here on out, Harper will overshadow him. In 10 years, there’s a chance we’ll have to explain the greatness of Trout to those punk kids in a way that we won’t with Harper. Three reasons, none of which are particularly debatable:

The easiest way to explain this is also the funniest. You’re aware that Trout has been struggling a bit this season, right? Not a lot, nothing to cause alarm, but he’s been less Trout than we’re used to, and people have noticed. And you’re also aware that Harper has used his experience points to level up. It would almost seem as if the two are lines passing each other on the graph.

As of April 20, then:

Bryce Harper, 2016 WAR (Baseball-Reference): 0.9
Mike Trout, 2016 WAR (Baseball-Reference): 0.7

That is, basically negligible. It’s the perfect stat for people who hate sabermetrics, unless it’s the perfect stat for people who love sabermetrics. Even with Harper hitting like he can slow baseballs down with his mind, Trout is almost as valuable according to a popular stat.

That’s because defense counts. Position counts. A centerfielder playing outstanding defense is worth more to a team than a rightfielder playing very good defense, and that’s not really a debatable point. What’s debatable, though, is just how to quantify that difference. WAR purports to do just that.

Before you yell at the statistic and the nerds who invented it, note that teams probably agree with the general idea. It’s why there was a multi-organizational scramble to lock Jason Heyward up for millions and millions this offseason. No one disagrees with the idea that Trout is far, far better than a generic (and technically true) description of “.300 hitter who can hit 30 or 40 homers for you.” But it takes a second to explain it.

People don’t have a second. Have you dealt with people lately? They’re pretty rude.

This kind of leapfrogs off the last section about context, but it’s worth singling out, too. Angels Stadium is secretly an AL Astrodome, a pitcher’s haven that flies under the radar. Ask 100 fans at a random game where the best place to pitch is, and you’ll hear about three parks in the NL West. Maybe Citi Field, Safeco, or O.co would sneak into the discussion. Based on my own anecdotal experience, though, Angel Stadium rarely, if ever, comes up.

That limits the raw numbers Trout might accumulate. He might hit 40 homers in every season for the next three seasons, but he also might drop back down to the 20s and 30s. Those are totals that are still excellent and might translate to 40 homers in other ballparks, but counting stats are counting stats.

Harper plays in a neutral park now, and he’ll get to choose his new park sooner than Trout will. Harper could hit a home run in Yankee Stadium by using his hands, slapping at the ball like he was playing a game of handball. If he stays with the Nationals, he would have the park advantage, but there’s a chance he could go somewhere better for his raw numbers.

Kind of curious about that Coors Field suggestion, to be quite honest.

Harper will run the bases, and his helmet will fall off. His long hair will spill out, and he’ll stand on second base, pointing to his own dugout, passionately pounding his hands together. He’ll look exactly like Bryce Harper the whole time, and the opposing fans will hate it.

Mike Trout is really into weather.

Harper will get choked and thrown at, a perfect target for sneering and yelling. He’ll be brutally honest in tense postgame interviews, and he’ll make hats to double down on the brutal honesty.

Mike Trout would like to sit down and talk to you about cumulonimbus clouds. He’d like to argue on their behalf, perhaps, getting as worked up as you’ve ever seen him.

Which is to say that Harper is better at being the story, better at capturing imaginations and attentions. He’s the perfect player for the modern era, the personality baseball needs to sell a game that requires attention to a public that’s all out of attention. He’s a quote and a soundbite, and, yes, he’s something of a dinger factory. Trout hit just one fewer than Harper last year, but I’ll take the over on Harper’s power for the next decade. It’s more of an inextricable part of Harper’s game.

Add it all up, and it’s clear that Harper is about to ascend to level of stardom that baseball has been desperate for, if he hasn’t already. It doesn’t mean that he’ll be the better player. It doesn’t mean that Trout is about to become underrated and ignored. It’s just that Harper is better at playing his role of Baseball Player You Care About, especially among people who are interested in baseball, but not fanatical. The transition happened last year, at some point, and we’re just piecing it together now.

The best part is that I’m fairly certain that neither player would have it any other way. They both seem perfectly suited for the roles they appear destined for. We’ll still get to have the Mays/Mantle debates over the next decade, and we’ll still get to enjoy them both as the special talents they are. But there’s going to be a shift in perception. It’s probably started already.