LOS ANGELES -- A couple of months ago, with the season quickly advancing and clarity lagging behind it, Albert Pujols put it to a vote. He gathered his wife and his five children and went around the room asking each of them the same question:
Is it time to retire?
Only one family member voted for 2021 to be Pujols' final year in the big leagues: his youngest daughter, 9-year-old Esther Grace, who wants more time at home with Dad. Everybody else wanted Pujols to keep going into his age-42 season in 2022, either because they think he can still do this, or because they want him to reach 700 home runs, or because they can't imagine life any other way.
Pujols, 41, still doesn't know, and he is intent on waiting until he does.
"The last thing I wanna do is sit at home a year from now and say, 'Damn, why did I just do that?'" he says. "I wanna make sure that this is it, because I don't wanna be like, 'Shoot,' and then try to come back. When I say I'm done, I'm done."
It was a warm Tuesday afternoon at a quiet Dodger Stadium, several weeks after the family vote. In 30 minutes, Pujols would engage in his customary two-hour workout. In four hours, the first pitch would be thrown in another game he would not start. This is his life now, in the third decade of one of the most accomplished careers in baseball history. After a dominant 11-year run with the St. Louis Cardinals and an arduous nine-plus seasons with the Los Angeles Angels, Pujols -- one of only three men to reach 600 homers, 3,000 hits and 2,000 RBIs -- is a pinch-hitting specialist for a Los Angeles Dodgers team that is among the most decorated in recent memory.
A cartoon version of Pujols, alongside the logo "Tio Albert," is now emblazoned on blue T-shirts, a popular choice for the Dodgers' pregame batting practice. His enveloping hugs have become a staple of the Dodgers' home run celebrations. Dave Roberts, the Dodgers' manager, continually raves about the ways his work ethic and mentorship have rubbed off on a star-laden clubhouse.
Pujols barely plays (he has started only three games this month), but he is productive when he does (he owns a .998 OPS against lefties since joining the team on May 17, four days after a stunning release by the Angels). Helping younger players, and seeing the ways that can show up in the midst of a thrilling pennant race, has "helped me get the joy back of the game that I love and respect and honored since I was a little boy," Pujols says. "I'm getting that back. And that's what you see."
At times, Pujols admits, watching all these intense, high-pressure games from the bench has been torturous. But he has embraced the limited role -- one that people throughout the sport say he would have never accepted with the Angels. That's partly because this isn't the team that gave him a massive contract and partly because the expectations, and limitations, were laid out on the front end. But it's mostly because the games he's playing, even in their smaller numbers, are coming in pursuit of a championship.
He missed that chase.
"I had that early in my career, which was awesome," Pujols says. "And that never went away for me -- the desire to keep pushing. And that's why we were in the playoffs every year in St. Louis."
Seven playoff appearances and two World Series titles as a member of the Cardinals was followed by one playoff appearance -- resulting in a first-round sweep -- and a litany of irrelevant Septembers as a member of the Angels. His own diminished production and an inadequate supporting cast meant that no matter how hard he pushed, the Angels could never get over the hump.
"People would probably say, 'Well, it's kind of your fault,'" Pujols says. "Why does it have to be our fault? You try to do your job as best as you can. And believe me, where I came from, it's a good organization and we had great teams. It just never worked out for us, whether it was the chemistry, the idea, the way that things worked out, I don't know. I don't know what was missing there. But now that I'm on the other side again and see that preparation and how the organization goes about it, and I see the success, what it takes, and what was missing on the other side, I'm like, 'Wow.'"
Shortly after Pujols agreed to join the Dodgers, several of his new teammates went on YouTube and pulled up highlights of his time with the Cardinals.
Many of them are about half his age and basically grew up with a different version of Pujols -- the one who fought through noticeable aches and pains in his lower half and became known just as much for hitting into inning-ending double plays as he did for unleashing mammoth home runs. To most of them, the ferocious player from the 2000s -- the three-time MVP who matched Hank Aaron's power with Tony Gwynn's bat control and developed into a force both on defense and on the bases -- was a grainy image harkening to another time.
In that vein, Pujols' career has been a two-act play. Of dominance followed by perseverance, or, harshly, of unprecedented greatness that faded too quickly. Pujols sees it only one way -- as the story of a man who extracted every ounce of every opportunity, from being a 13th-round pick out of a community college at age 20, to fighting for relevance in a sport suddenly composed of high velocities and intricate shifts at age 40. Reality has set in, but his confidence has hardly wavered.
"It's not rocket science -- I'm not the same player that I was 10 years ago, 15 years ago," Pujols says. "I mean, it is what it is -- because of age, because of injury. But I believe that I can still contribute pretty well, and it'll show every time I get an opportunity."
The Dodgers believe it too. Fresh after their 2020 World Series win, which snapped a drought that lingered for 32 years, their active roster now boasts a combined seven Cy Young Awards, six MVP Awards and 54 invitations to the All-Star Game.
Pujols rides the bench, but David Price pitches in long relief. On back-to-back days, one three-time Cy Young Award winner (Max Scherzer) is followed by another (Clayton Kershaw). On a regular basis, the top of their lineup features two of the sport's most dynamic on-base threats (Mookie Betts and Trea Turner). The Dodgers have won 64% of their games and have outscored opponents by a major league-leading 245 runs, and yet they have barely been whole all summer. Falling short of a ninth consecutive division title would be the byproduct of a magical season by the surprisingly dominant San Francisco Giants, not an indictment on the Dodgers' output. Despite their two-game deficit, FanGraphs gives them the best odds to win this year's World Series.
Pujols has bonded with Justin Turner and Max Muncy, the two starting corner infielders who have taken a liking to his bat in recent weeks. He has been seen on the bench having purposeful conversations with the likes of Will Smith, Julio Urias and Brusdar Graterol, but also with Kershaw and Scherzer and Roberts. On Tuesday, after he delivered the game-winning hit in an extra-inning victory over the Colorado Rockies, they all greeted him with a beer shower.
"It just shows how much guys respect and adore him," Roberts says.
Gavin Lux, who grew up in Wisconsin and vividly remembers how a young Pujols used to terrorize National League Central teams, is among them. "He's made a huge difference since the day he stepped foot in the clubhouse," Lux, 23, says. "Some of those conversations you have with him you definitely don't take for granted."
Pujols mentions names like Willie Mays and Stan Musial and how each took on a mentorship role late in their careers, noting he's happy to do the same. Lately, he has thought often about a man named Fernando Arango, a longtime scout who basically discovered him. Arango died of cancer two years ago.
"He's looking down on me and he's telling me, 'Well done, because this is what I was expecting from you,'" Pujols says. "I know how valuable this is, whether the game is changing or not right now, because it's a different ballgame than when I first came up in the league. At the end of the day, I go by the impact that I have made in a ballclub, and those relationships, to me, are treasured more than any accomplishment that I have on the field."
Pujols might not start a single game in October, but at some point it'll be late, the score will be close, and he will be summoned from the bench to deliver the at-bat that could swing a game and impact a title.
A decision on his future won't come until sometime thereafter. A third World Series championship might push him toward retirement. On the other hand, a CBA that includes the adoption of the universal DH, a development that might carve him a path for one final season in St. Louis, could inspire a return -- and a farewell tour akin to the ones experienced by David Ortiz and Mariano Rivera
Pujols has undergone seven surgeries -- he will point out each of them -- since leaving the Cardinals. He has a large, tight-knit family, is involved in an assortment of charitable endeavors and has accomplished just about everything imaginable within his profession. Milestones remain (he's 21 home runs away from 700, 35 games away from 3,000), but that will always be the case.
Which raises another question:
What, exactly, is he still chasing?
"That's a great question," Pujols says, pausing for a moment. "But I'm not chasing anything. I just love the game of baseball. And I feel like, I walk out on my terms, not on somebody else's terms."