Mike Trout's season is over early and the universe remains cruel, cold and unforgiving

I do not like this, not one bit. Mike Trout will play no more baseball games this season, and it's so incredibly unfair.

The Angels' star outfielder and best player in the game today (and possibly ever) is undergoing surgery next week, the team announced on Sunday, to deal with a "Morton's neuroma" on his right foot next week.

I'm sorry, a WHAT?

I've followed sports teams for a big part of my life, and I do not recall ever hearing the phrase "Morton's neuroma" before. The Mayo Clinic notes that it is, in fact, a real condition, and one that can feel like you're "standing on a pebble in your sock," which sounds incredibly annoying, not to mention painful.

Here's me after first hearing the news:

This unwelcome news does, at least, prove that Trout is an actual human being and not a baseball-playing robot programmed to dominate an entire sport with feats of unparalleled excellence, which seemed to be the case.

This news coming mere days after his teammate, Shohei Ohtani, underwent season-ending surgery himself and a week after Brewers star and reigning NL MVP Christian Yelich was also lost for the season with a kneecap fracture sustained on something as ordinary as a foul at the plate, is stupid. It's mean. It's cruel. It's further proof that the "baseball gods," as they're known, can be unforgiving monsters.

Here are Mike Trout's final stats of the season. Keep in mind he could have had even better numbers had his foot condition not become a debilitating issue.

The universe is cold and cruel.

This also means, somewhat shockingly, that Trout can be knocked off his game by random nonsense the same way the rest of us can. I had a paper cut on my index finger last week, for example, and it made mashing keys on my laptop a bit of a struggle for a few days. I can relate.

Just kidding -- I can't relate, because Mike Trout is baseball's most awe-inspiring player, capable of majestic home runs that make your eyes pop out of their skulls. Case in point, this blast from Trout last week, the 45th and last (sigh) of his 2019 season:

This completely absurd moonshot of a home run came against the A's and ripped lefty Brett Anderson's soul from his body, because of course it did. For nine years now, I've watched Trout terrorize my team, the A's, as well as everybody else, in ways that no other player ever has. And in a weird way, I've loved it -- because it means I've gotten to watch him play on a pretty regular basis.

The man is gift -- an an impossible gift to the game of baseball, a player kids idolize and a man who exudes an "Aw, shucks, me? Really? Stop it, you're too kind!" attitude in everything he does, which is, again, better than everybody else. Him not being around is a significant bummer, even if the Angels weren't going to the postseason and he'd only have had a few weeks left to play.

With his season cut short due to that nagging foot issue, I'm upset with his foot, sure -- but in terms of silver linings, at least this might mean we'll get more photo shoots of Trout with his family dog, Juno.

I guess that'll have to do, in the meantime, until spring rolls around and we get to see Mike Trout back in an Angels uniform making every other team anxious, sweating bullets and going through that unmistakable feeling of, "Oh no, he got me!" as he does this:

Or this, because he's an equal opportunity Boss Battle for the other team, beating you with his bat or his glove just the same:

And it won't be soon enough, honestly, when this is all happening again. It'll feel like balance has been restored to the universe.

Feel better, Mike -- and here's hoping that foot heals up promptly, so the game's best can get ready to be the best again in 2020.