It’s a scene straight out of Hunter Renfroe’s boyhood dreams: As he trots into a major league baseball dugout, jersey stretched across his chest, fans swarm him. In the dreams, they are yelling his name. In reality, they are yelling someone else’s. “Mike!” they beg. “Can we get an autograph?”
He smiles. “Not me,” he says patiently.
He doesn’t blame them: He and his Angels teammate Mike Trout both see the resemblance—although Trout, the 10-time All-Star and three-time MVP, has not yet been asked to sign anything for Renfroe, a journeyman.
“There’s definitely some times where we do look kind of alike,” Renfroe says. “If we have hats on or helmets on, yeah. If we have hats off, no.”
They are forever fooling fans, Trout says. “They’re calling ‘Hunter’ and it’s me or they’re calling ‘Trout’ and it’s him,” he says. A crowd a dozen deep watched players board the bus in Boston last week, mostly hoping for a glimpse of two-way star Shohei Ohtani; when Renfroe emerged, they broke into cheers for Trout. Renfroe says he is not offended; rather he is “honored” to be mentioned alongside Trout, even if more for aesthetics than for ability.
Renfroe points out, correctly, that they are both “big white guys,” but baseball has a lot of big white guys. And it’s not just fans: Even some of their teammates have looked twice. There is something about the broad cheekbones, the scruffy facial hair, the way they squint at the incoming pitch. They are both 31 and righthanded, they are both outfielders, they both walk with a certain swagger.
Righty Patrick Sandoval, who has known Trout since being traded to Los Angeles from the Astros in 2018, tuned into the ’20 World Series and caught sight of Renfroe, then a Ray, at bat.
“The way he was standing in the box, I was like, ‘Mike?’” says Sandoval.
Renfroe, who plays right field, spent his first five years in the majors as a Padre before they traded him to Tampa Bay for Jake Cronenworth and Tommy Pham. After 2020, the Rays designated him for assignment and he elected free agency, whereupon he signed with the Red Sox, which a year later traded him to the Brewers for Jackie Bradley Jr. Last November, the Angels acquired him for two pitchers and a prospect. He has a career 113 OPS+ in 10 seasons and, after winning his arbitration case this year, will make $11.9 million. He can be a free agent after this year.
Meanwhile, Trout, the center fielder, is the consensus best player of his generation and will enter the Hall of Fame on the first ballot. The 12-year, $426.5 million extension he signed in 2019 remains the most lucrative guaranteed deal in professional sports history.
GM Perry Minasian laughed when asked whether he had traded for Renfroe thinking he might just get Trout again.
“They do look alike,” he says. “It’s kind of crazy. Their lockers are next to each other now, so once in a while I walk by and I have to do a double-take.” He adds, “If he swings like Mike, that would be great!”
Renfroe actually is having the best year of his career, with seven doubles and six home runs in 23 games. Perhaps opposing pitchers panic when they believe they are facing Trout again and, in the confusion, groove fastballs.
Still, manager Phil Nevin says he has never accidentally signaled for the wrong guy to pinch hit. “It’s kind of like parents who have twins,” he says. “They can tell them apart. Well, I consider these guys like my own family.”
In that department he has one up on Renfroe’s own family, some of whom, at a quick glance, have been known to mix them up.
Nevin laughs. “Well, I’m around him more than his family,” he points out.
If this all seems a little confusing … it gets worse. “[Brandon] Drury can sneak in there, too,” says utilityman Jake Lamb. “From a distance.”
Drury, the second baseman, doesn’t see it. “Maybe a little bit,” he says generously. He does think Trout and Renfroe look alike, though.
Those two have not discussed the idea of switching jerseys and trying to catch anyone off guard, but Trout says he likes the idea. Renfroe says he has a better one: “They can switch our paychecks!”