ST. LOUIS (ESPN) — It’s Albert Pujols’ town. It was Albert Pujols’ night. And this is Albert Pujols’ personal All-Star extravaganza.

But it was NOT Albert Pujols’ Home Run Derby.

No, instead, the 24th Derby in All-Star long ball history was hijacked by a very large tofu-eater from Milwaukee named Prince Fielder.

He launched 10,087 feet worth of home runs into the Missouri ozone, 23 of those bombs altogether. And that was more than Pujols, more than runner-up Nelson Cruz, and nearly three times as many as the eight his father, Cecil, once hit in three Derbies COMBINED.

“It’s pretty cool to actually win one,” Fielder said afterward. “As a kid, you never think you’ll win one. You just want to be in one. So [winning the Derby is] kind of like a dream come true, I guess.”

OK, true confession: This was not the most mesmerizing Derby show ever. Just for perspective’s sake, we should announce right here that Fielder hit five fewer home runs in THREE rounds than Josh Hamilton hit last year in just ONE round — and Hamilton didn’t even win.

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Elsa/Getty ImagesPrince Fielder said he never hit a ball 500 feet before. Well, on Monday, he knocked one 503 in the Home Run Derby.

But there’s always one magic moment, one indelible swing of the bat, that leaves its imprint on every Home Run Derby. And let the record show that Prince’s signature moment came on his 32nd swing of the evening, late in the second round.

He already had whomped 16 homers at that point. So he was already on his way to the finals.

But who knew the next baseball he’d hit would find itself on its way to Mars?

His personal pitcher, Brewers minor league hitting coach Sandy Guerrero, laid in a vintage BP fastball. Apparently, it was Prince’s kind of pitch.

Fielder coiled, connected and almost toppled over, thanks to the sheer overpowering force of hitting a ball that looked for a moment as if it might clank off the Anheuser-Busch brewery.

It roared through the night, flew OVER the bleachers in deep right-center, found a wedge between those bleachers and the center-field upper deck, and then disappeared into the concourse behind the center-field seats.

It was estimated at 503 feet. Which is a whole lot of feet. But the man who threw the pitch that produced that shot didn’t need a yardstick or a computer grid to measure it.

No, said Sandy Guerrero. He measured this one with his ears.

“It sounded like a cannon,” Guerrero would say afterward. “Not as loud, but very crispy.”

Hmm, did he say crispy? What, like a tortilla chip?

“No, I’m telling you,” Guerrero went on, “that feeling, of seeing that ball come off the bat and hearing that sound, you just turn around and go, ‘Oh, my God.’ I couldn’t follow the ball. But just from the sound of the ball, I knew that one was hit harder than all the others.”

And how right he was. Which was saying something, too, because Fielder hit 11 home runs on this night that traveled 450 feet or farther. And there were some serious whoppers in that collection.

There was a 497-footer that landed six rows from the top of the center-field upper deck. There was a 488-footer that soared beyond the auxiliary scoreboard in right-center. There was a 480-footer that found the center-field upper deck, above the seemingly unreachable Holiday Inn sign. And there was a 466-footer that flew OVER the gigantic grassy knoll in dead center.

But when that 503-foot NASA launch left his bat, it made the rest of those shots look like pop-ups.

“That was amazing,” Guerrero said. “To hit a ball like that, everything has to be exactly perfect — the speed of the pitch, the speed of the bat. Mechanically, you’ve got to be perfect. I mean, he hit a ball 500 feet. We say he makes it look easy. But to stand on the field and see where that ball lands, it’s amazing that he could do that.”

Fielder didn’t do quite THAT much gushing over that majestic hack. But he did say: “I’ve never hit a ball 500 feet. So that was pretty cool.”

What was also pretty cool was that he took teammate Ryan Braun along for this ride — by stealing his bat. During the first round, Fielder ditched the Rickie Weeks model he’d started out using, picked up one of Braun’s bats and used it to do some ridiculous damage.

But afterward, Braun didn’t sound like a man who was real worried that Fielder was in any danger of wrecking either (A) that bat or (B) his swing with this eruption.

“No, his swing is MADE for this thing,” Braun said. “He was hitting line-drive home runs, too. They were just going 500 feet.”