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Fielder of dreams Cecil's son Prince has the look of a first-round draft pickPosted: Saturday June 01, 2002 8:07 PMUpdated: Saturday June 01, 2002 8:33 PM
MELBOURNE, Fla. (AP) -- The fan with the familiar face and formidable physique roams the stands at the high school field, too anxious to sit still. He won a World Series ring and hit 319 home runs in 13 major league seasons, but now he's part of the crowd -- a baseball dad watching his son blossom. "It's exciting stuff," Cecil Fielder says. "I know I'm his daddy, man, but he does some things that make me shake my head in amazement." The story of the home-run king and his only son, Prince, is no fairy tale. It has transformed the famous father into a proud papa, and his heir will likely be chosen in the first round of Tuesday's amateur draft. Prince is another good-hitting Fielder, an 18-year-old slugger-in-the-making with the talent and temperament to surpass Cecil's achievements. Says who? Says Cecil. "He can do so many things I couldn't do," the elder Fielder says. "He's a totally different package." They're built alike. Cecil fought the battle of the bulge his entire career with Detroit, the New York Yankees, Toronto and Anaheim, and when Prince's weight soared above 300 pounds two years ago he resembled not Babe Ruth but Baby Huey. The young Fielder hooked up with a personal trainer, embraced a workout regimen and now carries 255 pounds on a 6-foot frame that justifies his nickname, Tank. He has 22-inch arms -- larger than dad's -- and legs that can press 1,000 pounds 12 times. His feet squeeze into size 13 shoes, which suggests he's still a growing boy, goatee and mustache notwithstanding. "He has power big-time -- light-tower power," says former Florida Marlins manager John Boles, who lives in Melbourne and now works for the Los Angeles Dodgers. "He reminds me of a young Mo Vaughn." Or Cecil Fielder. Prince swings from the left side and runs well, while his dad did neither. But like Cecil, Prince is a first baseman capable of launching moonshots. A three-time All-Star, Cecil led the American League with 51 home runs and 132 RBIs for Detroit in 1990, and during a four-year span with the Tigers he totaled 160 homers and 506 RBIs. But even he is impressed by Prince's power. In the final game this season for his Melbourne high school team, young Fielder hit a homer to the gas station across the street from the ballpark. Estimated distance: 500 feet. As the Fielders sit in an office at Prince's school, talking about adventures past and yet to come, it's obvious they share a bond. They laugh at each other's stories even when they've heard them before, and they agree that Cecil is an enthusiastic but not domineering baseball dad. "I wouldn't want to play if I had to deal with that," Prince says. Cecil, in turn, considers Prince an exemplary baseball son. "With the background he has, you'd think you'd get a snotty kid that didn't want to listen to anybody and didn't want to get better because he thinks he's a superstar in high school," Cecil says. "But he's not like that. He's well-grounded." How did that happen? "Good raisin'," Cecil says. Fielder and his wife, Stacey, also have a 10-year-old daughter, but while her passion is horses, Prince was raised to play ball. The grooming began when he tried to bat right-handed as a toddler playing in the yard. "I'd be tossing him a ball when he was a baby," Cecil recalls. "I said, `Dude, get over on the other side of the dish. It's a left-handed hitter's game."' Prince started playing Little League with older kids at age 5. Soon he was a regular in the Tigers' clubhouse and became buddies with Rob Deer, Tony Phillips and other players. "When I was 8, my dad took me on the road for the whole summer," Prince says. "I remember his teammates dumping me in trash cans and body-slamming me and stuff. Then during the games I'd fall asleep, and he'd wake me up and we'd go home." Cecil was traded to the Yankees in 1996, and a 12-year-old Prince missed two months of school that year traveling with the team that won the World Series. Now the goal is to get back to the big leagues. Prince's stock began to rise in February after an impromptu batting practice session in Lakeland. While the Fielders were visiting the Tigers' spring training complex, manager Phil Garner invited Prince to step into the cage. He hit the first pitch over the fence, then hit seven more, including two beyond the 410-foot mark in center field. From there, the buzz built, and waves of major league scouts and front office executives began showing up to watch Fielder play. He admits being briefly flustered by the attention but hit .524 with 11 home runs and 41 RBIs in 82 at-bats for Eau Gallie High School. Twice he was intentionally walked with the bases loaded. His coach, Bob Collins, feared Prince's power potential could be literally lethal, especially with an aluminum bat. "We were playing Cocoa Beach and I was coaching third base," Collins says. "Prince came up with a man on third and one out, and they brought the infield in. I turned to their coach and said, `Walk him if you have to, but don't bring your infield in. He's going to kill one of your kids."' The infield retreated. Fielder hit a home run. No one was hurt. Cecil and Prince would love to sign with the Tigers, who pick eighth. Detroit, Cincinnati, Milwaukee, Toronto, Kansas City and Philadelphia have shown the most interest, Cecil says. A scholarship offer from Arizona State provides leverage in negotiations, but college might mess up Cecil's timetable for Prince. "By 2005, he could be in the big leagues," dad says. Cecil, who will handle the negotiations, turned away agents eager to represent his son. "I told them, 'You guys have gotten enough of my money over the last 15 years. You're not getting his."' If Prince is a top-10 pick he'll likely be offered at least $2 million, which would be tough for dad to turn down. When Cecil turned pro with Kansas City in 1982, he received $3,000. So Prince will likely soon be playing in the minor leagues, and Cecil promises he'll be there to watch, at Beloit or Burlington or Daytona or Dunedin, enjoying the game from a papa's perspective. There's no better seat in the house.
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