Fan of the House: Looking for some enlightenment at Angel Stadium

An asylum is only as good as its inmates, so here we are back in Anaheim, trying to make sense of these crazy Angels.

Never have a bad time down here. Angel Stadium is strangely atmospheric, the forest green seats darkening an already moody ballpark. The O.C. seems to be all about sunlight and sequined surf. Yet, this low-def stadium looks like it belongs in downtown Detroit.

Actually, that’s what it reminds me of — old Tiger Stadium, a dump among dumps. But that old joint reeked of beer, ballpark mustard and stale coffee. So, naturally, I found it felt much like home.

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Same with Angel Stadium. For all its flaws, it’s still a fetching ballyard. I mean, how wrong can you go with a California mansion, featuring multiple kitchens, located five minutes from the Mouse?

As you know, the Angels boast two major draws: the best player in the game, and the former best player in the game.

This night, Mike Trout signs autographs almost till the first pitch. Of all the franchise players in all the sports — Tom Brady and Steph Curry included — Trout carries his team the most. Take away Trout and you may as well just open up a Wal-Mart.

The ultra-durable Trout is everything Matt Kemp was supposed to be, or Yasiel Puig occasionally promises. Dissect this splendid specimen and you’d find the grit and class of Jeter and Ripken, with a smattering of Vin Scully’s “shucks, guys, just glad to be here” approach. Prodigies like this come along about once every 200 years.

At the plate, watch the way Trout “loads” on every pitch, starts the helicopter whirling, then holds up if it’s not what he wants. That’s how he mixes so many walks with quality hits. You see Trout get caught looking at strike three about as often as you catch a Kardashian taking calculus.

Remember when they moved him out of center field? Yeah, sure, that was a good idea.

Then there is Albert Pujols, the Angels’ slugger emeritus, and the former best player in the game. On Tuesday night, he hit into two double plays, then was gunned down at second after lacing what seemed to be a double off the castle wall.

How fast can a white elephant run? Not fast enough, evidently.

Whether the free agent market will be the undoing of Arte Moreno, the way it was of Peter O’Malley, remains to be seen. But such well-intended buying sprees, on aging racehorses, can undermine a ballclub’s cultish fan following.

Still, I have a good time. The loudest delinquents always seem to sit just behind me at a stadium, providing the kind of shrill screams and insanity I crave. Then there is my own kid — my Pinocchio in progress — wolfing down $40 worth of snack stand muck. I help as best I can.

At Angel Stadium, home runs are announced with blasts of fire from a tube in center field, which, if you find yourself in Section 257, is a nice way to reheat pizza.

This night, the local boys hit four home runs, so Arte’s Inferno is going almost constantly. For the Angels, tentative swings by overmatched hitters have given way to some real heat lately. This new kid, Jefry (yes, that’s the way he misspells it) Marte, goes four for four and nearly hits for the cycle.

Meanwhile, a 31-year-old nobody by the name of Gregorio Petit makes one of the best defensive gems I’ve seen. You can watch a lot of summer blockbusters without seeing a superhero stunt like this one.

The Tigers’ fleet Cameron Maybin comes barreling in like the 5:15 express, and Petit takes a high throw from the catcher while trying to keep Maybin from scissoring his legs — possibly permanently. Honestly, Maybin almost split him like an atom.

Petit not only snares the throw, but also leaps like a cheerleader, then snaps the glove down on Maybin for the out. I think I’ve seen it all — twice. But I don’t think I’ve seen a tag as clever and athletic as this one.

So, amid challenges, Mike Scioscia’s Angels continue to play with heart and fire. You don’t know this old-school manager at all if you think he’d allow a player to half give up.

Chewing at Angels fans, though, is that the Seattle Mariners are performing so well under former Angels general manager Jerry Dipoto. Maybe that was a case of irreconcilable differences. Maybe that move had to happen.

But frustrated fans are left to wonder: Did the boss let the savior get away?

chris.erskine@latimes.com

Twitter: @erskinetimes

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