How Pete Crow-Armstrong Became the Fullest Version of Himself—and the Best Center Fielder in the World

This is PCA in a nutshell: he’s perennially self-deprecating with a tremendous sense of humor, but he still radiates effortless cool. In classic Angeleno fashion, both of his parents are actors. His mom, Ashley Crow, starred in the ’90s baseball classic Little Big League, while his dad, Matthew John Armstrong, logged three seasons on the NBC drama American Dreams. Both were also in the show Heroes. But don’t get it twisted. PCA grew up around kids who were rich rich. As we joke about classmates having Marvel money and parents who let them throw lavish house parties, Crow-Armstrong tells me his story about being a child of the industry. “My parents always made jokes about the residuals,” he says. “My dad would—not to knock any sort of payday—but he’d be like, ‘Oh, I got paid three cents.’ We’re all in the house, like, ‘Yeah!’”

Crow-Armstrong and I are sitting in a lower Manhattan coffee shop that can best be described as vibey. There are enormous, verdant plants all around the room. Clairo is pouring out of the speakers and later, a song by Thee Sacred Souls, which delights him because they used to be in his walk-up song rotation. PCA is in town for the Cubs’ series against the Yankees, and with a whole morning to kill before reporting to the stadium, he orders an iced Americano and settles into his chair, looking very much in his element. His carrot-orange curls are hidden beneath an Aimé Leon Dore hat. There’s a silver hoop in his left ear, and a long sleeve Adidas shirt covers the litany of tattoos on his arms.

He’s also brought along his girlfriend, Hailey, and tells me that they dined at Balthazar the night before. They’ve been together for almost a year and a half now, he shares proudly, and casually drops that their relationship was born at Vanessa Hudgens’ wedding in Tulum. (Hudgens’ husband, Cole Tucker, played parts of six seasons in the big leagues and has a little brother, Carson, whom PCA calls “one of my best friends.”)

For a still developing baseball player, Crow-Armstrong possesses a laidback confidence that initially wrong foots me a little. In roughly an hour sipping coffee with him, he uses the word “dude” just north of 20 times. This is, after all, the kid who showed up to the Cubs’ first game of the season sporting bleach blond hair with blue stars dyed in. He is one of the only people in the entire MLB universe regularly getting fits off. Given his age, flair, and the star-making season he’s enjoying, I expected something a little more rambunctious. Instead, I get a young man with a clear view of who he is now. “I feel like a different baseball player,” he says, “but I also just feel like a fuller version of who I thought I could be. [This is] what it would look like if the work paid off.”