Prince Fielder/file photo
You can count on Prince Fielder for three things. Towering home runs, all-out hustle, and a near-certainty that he will be in the lineup each and every day.
Throughout his career, he has defined consistency. This will be his 8th season in the big leagues, and he has never played less than 157 games (he has started all 112 this year). Yet, entering last night’s affair in Cleveland, Fielder was waist-deep in a serious mid-summer swoon.
Since the All-Star break, he’d been flirting dangerously close with the Mendoza Line (.203 BA since ASB). In these 17 games, he’d put just one ball in the seats. Strikeouts and routine double plays were becoming the norm.
You worried that teams would start avoiding Miguel Cabrera at all costs, with the feeble bat of Fielder sitting harmlessly in the on-deck circle. Tigers’ fans know how infuriating that dance can be, remembering the 2010 season, when Brennan Boesch provided Cabrera the protection of a housecat in the jungle.
Former All-Star catcher Terry Kennedy once said, “Most slumps are like the common cold. They last two weeks no matter what you do.” If folksy baseball wisdom can be trusted, that meant Fielder was just about ready to turn the corner; which brings us to last night.
The Tigers invaded Cleveland on Monday with a slim three-game advantage in the American League Central. They bagged the first two wins, assuring themselves of at least a split. But a split is not what they came for. Taking three, or even all four, would create real distance between the two clubs, and likely send the Tribe tumbling to one of their patented August-September free falls into oblivion. Wednesday night would be critical. And both squads acted the part.
The game had everything. Cabrera, playing with a left hip on loan from early-90’s Bo Jackson, collected a trio of whiffs before connecting on a massive go-ahead homer in the 8th. The home team answered in their half to tie it up. Bruce Rondon came in throwing smoke, heat-seeking fastballs that make once-courageous men tiptoe the outer edge of the batter’s box. Rallies started with promise and fizzled shortly thereafter.
As the game entered the 11th frame, Jim Leyland was running out of pitchers. He summoned none other than Jeremy Bonderman, a longtime Tiger whose career was derailed by a marginal fastball and a deteriorating shoulder. Bondo, looking fit and refreshed after three years away from Detroit, took care of the Indians in short order. Three sparkling innings, the minimum nine hitters faced, and we were headed to the 14th.
The Tigers put two men on with one out. Prince Fielder was due up. Terry Francona countered by bringing in lefty specialist, the human Scrabble word himself, Mark Rzepczynski. Fielder quickly fell behind 0-2. We’d seen this story far too often lately. One more desperate hack at a wide breaking ball, and Prince would be back on the bench. But this night was different. As Bonderman had illustrated in the innings prior, this night was about redemption.
Mr. Scrabble tried to get his next pitch off the plate away, but didn’t quite make it far enough. Fielder, in textbook fashion, sliced the ball hard into the gap in left center. It bounded all the way to the wall. Two runs scored, the game and series belonged to the Tigers, and a month’s worth of frustration seemed to peel right off of the slugger’s face.
Prince Fielder was never going to be mired in this slump for the remainder of the season. His track record is too strong, and his talents are too overwhelming. But in order to break free from the darkness, sometimes you need that one defining moment to start the train moving back in the other direction.
He had his last night. It just took him 14 innings to find it.
Joey Yashinsky is a free lance writer and regular contributor to Deadline Detroit.
