Here's what we'll miss most about Prince Fielder.
* Having that scary 1-2 punch in the heart of the order that you knew other teams feared. When Fielder was on his game, there was no greater power-hitting duo in the majors. Victor Martinez is a very good hitter and a model of consistency, but he doesn’t pack the kind of wallop that will make opposing managers go scrambling for the bullpen phone in the late innings.
* Cabrera is the best hitter in baseball, period. But let’s not pretend that his massive numbers of the last two seasons aren’t due, in some small part, to the protection Fielder provided him in the cleanup spot. We all remember the year when Brennan Boesch hit behind Cabrera in the order, and teams would find all sorts of imaginative ways to avoid the big man. For the last two years, that hasn’t been an issue; Cabrera’s now a two-time defending MVP. It’s a hard thing to measure statistically, but Fielder’s impact on those around him in the lineup was an undeniable asset during his time in Detroit.
* Adventures on the base paths. Fielder ran the bases like a 9-year-old. “I’m just gonna keep running until they tag me! Maybe I’ll get in a pickle . . . those are fun!!” This kamikaze style of base running came to a head in the ALCS when he somehow got involved in a rundown between home and third on a ball that Dustin Pedroia fielded and then held on to for what seemed like a full minute. Fielder had two simple options on that play; go or stay. He chose a little of both, and the Tigers paid the price with a bubble-bursting double play.
* Most players slide into bases. Fielder would sort of just hurl himself head-first, landing on his belly, before bouncing the last couple of feet. His shirt would come untucked, he’d pop up with a smile, and Tiger fans would howl with laughter. There’s just something timeless about giant human beings performing tasks generally reserved for much smaller individuals -- like seeing Louie Anderson on that Celebrity Diving show; it was far from artistic and bordered on being downright inappropriate, but when he sidled up to that board stuffed into his wetsuit, you weren’t touching the remote.
* You’d think with the last name Fielder that the man would be able to, you know, field. You’d be wrong. Son of Cecil played the easiest position on the field with the grace and fluidity of a bucking bronco. Fielder, like David Ortiz, is a natural designated hitter. But Prince is likely too young and too prideful to take that position on full-time. It suits him best, though. Even in an abbreviated post season, Fielder’s shortcomings at first reared their ugly head. He misplayed a foul pop near the stands, and then was unable to smother a wide throw from Jose Iglesias despite having more than enough time to react and execute. He would often veer too far from the bag on balls clearly intended for the second baseman, turning easy outs into infield hits. Now Miguel Cabrera can shift back across the diamond, making for an improved infield defense at multiple spots.
* The yearly stolen base. Prince has swiped exactly one bag in each of the last four seasons. Never more, never less. An odd, but enjoyable statistical quirk.
* The exaggeration of his height. Fielder’s always been listed at five feet, eleven inches tall, but appeared to be much shorter than his generous “official” measurement. That 5’11”/275 is more likely 5’7”/320, but you can understand why the Tigers and Fielder preferred to keep opponents fearful of his presence instead of being overly confident facing a man roughly the size of Danny DeVito.
* That postseason homer. Yes, there was one. Back in 2012, in the opening round against Oakland (Game 4), Fielder connected for a solo shot against A.J. Griffin in the fourth inning to open the scoring. Who knew that would be the last time he’d have a major impact on a Tigers’ playoff game? There were 20 more opportunities over the next two years, but Fielder couldn’t do it again. The postseason struggles began to take on a life of their own, and ultimately came to define his two seasons in Detroit.
A guy like little Lenny Dykstra smashed ten round-trippers in his five playoff series throughout his career; Fielder played in that same amount as a Tiger, and managed one. It can be cruel, or even unfair, to take years worth of accomplishments and break them down to a few scuffling weeks at the end of the season when the pitching is at its best and the weather is at its worst. But that’s the way of the world. Regular season wins make noise, but championships speak loudest. There is a reason Bill Mazeroski is in the Hall of Fame, and it’s not because of his ability to turn the double play.
Hit a homer in April and we’ll offer mild applause. But strike out in October and you’ve just become public enemy #1. Prince Fielder learned this the hard way, and now he’s been sent packing.
He wasn’t a perfect Detroit Tiger, but he was valuable; just not when it mattered most.
