Prince is growing
into his own in Milwaukee's clubhouse as well; slowly he is developing into a
leader. "You can see that happen day by day," says manager Ned Yost.
Prince kept a low profile as a rookie, but now it's not unusual to see the
Brewers--veterans and youngsters alike--converge on the leather swivel chairs
around Fielder's locker, where he entertains with his spot-on impersonations.
(His best are Al Pacino from Scarface and Ice-T from Law & Order: SVU.)
"We leave it to him to crack us all up," says second baseman Rickie
Weeks. "He can remember every quote from every movie."
At home Prince is
also a goofball, horsing around with his sons and spoiling them with junk food.
The kids are big like their dad and grand-dad: Two-year-old Jadyn weighs 43
pounds, and one-year-old Haven checks in at 34. "The older one is like
Prince's Mini-Me," says Chanel. "He's got the same face, the same
dimples." Prince, however, doesn't see either of his sons becoming a major
leaguer. "He says that baseball is too hard a sport--that the schedule is
too long and grueling," says Chanel. "He wants to push them to play
football or go to the NBA. He says that he always wanted to play basketball,
that was the sport for him. But I don't think so. Prince was meant for
His father, of
course, agrees. "The game is in his blood," says Cecil. "Since he
was one year old, wearing a diaper, he had a bat in his hand. Even back then I
already knew what he was going to do. He was going to be a baseball
The father is
certain of this, too: No matter what his son says now, no matter how badly he
wants to prove that he is his own man, no matter what has divided them, one day
soon the boy will come back to him. "It'll happen," says Cecil. One day
soon they'll be talking baseball again, ragging on each other, remembering the
good old days on the road, as if no time has passed. Until then, the father
will be waiting and--like everyone else--watching.