It’s possible, if not probable, that the BBWAA will fail to elect Mike Trout next month as the American League’s Most Valuable Player for the fourth time in five years, a near half-decade-long stretch of what’s difficult to be viewed as anything other than illogical thinking or misguided debate mongering that, if continued, will likely be looked upon decades from now by the baseball community with a sense of regret and confusion.

This marks the third consecutive year (2014, 2015) in which I’ve updated the historical context of Trout’s current run, and each season, the already obvious becomes even more apparent: Mike Trout isn’t just the best player in baseball; he’s one of the greatest ever to walk the earth. He is Mickey Mantle. He is Willie Mays. He is Barry Bonds, before the steroids. Steroid-era Bonds aside, Trout’s probably the best baseball player most people reading this post have ever seen.

Every position player in MLB history with more bWAR than Mike Trout (47.7) over any 5-year stretch, ever: — August Fagerstrom (@AugustFG_) October 4, 2016

The back and forth over the finer points of the subjectivity of the word “valuable” has grown tired, as has the common refrain of those who suggest “It isn’t the Most Outstanding Player Award.” And, it’s true — that’s not the name of the award. But, at a certain point, doesn’t “outstanding” win out? When the “outstanding” stands for “as or more outstanding than Stan Musial, Hank Aaron, Carl Yastrzemski and Joe DiMaggio ever were,” can’t that make up for whatever arbitrary standard one has set in order to create a universe in which all-time great season after all-time great season can be met with a second-place finish and a pat on the back at the end of the year?

Mike Trout took 11% of the Angels’ plate appearances this season and pitched 0% of their innings. Who cares who his teammates were? Does anyone remember who Ernie Banks‘ teammates were in 1959, when the Cubs went 74-80? No, because Ernie Banks played on those teams, and that’s all that mattered, because Ernie Banks was clearly the Most Valuable Player in baseball that year. Mike Trout is the most valuable player in the world.

It doesn’t actually matter to any one of us, personally. But it’s unfortunate for Mike Trout. It’s unfortunate for Mike Trout’s parents, and for Mike Trout’s friends, and his fiancee, and his coaches past and present, and for the scout who signed him, and for anyone along the way who’s helped him become the person and player he is today. Not that any of those folks, especially Trout himself, should require any sort of added recognition in order to fully appreciate what Trout’s achieved. But it’s a shame that all those people aren’t getting the chance to rightfully celebrate what they all know to be true, particularly when Trout’s organization has already necessitated such a shortage of celebration as is. And it’s a shame for the future fans of baseball, as we’re writing a history that will lie to them.

Maybe we can all be pleasantly surprised when the year-end award results are announced and, the voters having realized it’s nearly impossible to build an objective case to the contrary, Trout wins the MVP. Maybe all those people will get to celebrate, and the history books will be able to tell a more authentic story than the one they’ll tell about 2012, 2013, and 2015.

We can all hope to be pleasantly surprised, but at the same time, there’s nothing most of us can do about it. So we look to the numbers. We look to the numbers, because they’re the one thing over which Mike Trout has complete control, the thing which no vote can change. We look to the numbers and we smile, regardless of which stranger gets to put the octagonal plaque with Kenesaw Mountain Landis’ face in the middle of it on their bookshelf of the home we’ll never be inside. We look to the numbers and we smile, because we get to watch Mike Trout play baseball.

And so without further adieu, below is the massive, annual, sortable table, containing the 100 players in the modern era with the greatest stretches of dominance, this year in five-season peaks, and a collection of assorted musings after the jump. Please, spend some time sorting and playing around with this, and share your favorite fun facts in the comments below: