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A Pep Talk for Miguel Cabrera

Where, in what has now become a weekly thing, I try to cheer up a struggling player.

Jesse Johnson-US PRESSWIRE

(Note: This was written before his 2-run HR last night.  He might have heard me typing!)

Hola Miguel!  Como estas?  You don't seem well.  Are you upset that Prince Fielder left you all alone in Detroit?  I understand.  No one to go to Denny's with anymore and use the pickup line, "Well, I didn't HIT one today but, YOU dear, are a grand slam.  I will have three of those."  That was pure booty gold.  I'm envious I didn't think of it first.  Well, it is time to cheer yourself up!  Here are a few points to build you up and have you forgetting about Fielder in no time:

-          Stop pressing.  Even though you have a new manager, you don't have to impress him all at once.  Granted, this manager can actually stay awake for the entire nine innings and won't soil himself instead of getting up and walking 20 feet to the restroom, but he is nothing to be afraid of.  It's Brad Ausmus for mediocre's sake!  Not during any moment during his career do I remember saying, "OH MY GOD!  BRAD AUSMUS IS IN TOWN!  WE HAVE TO GET TICKETS!!!"  So just chill and let the rhythm come to you.

-          When playing home games, try to picture yourself in somewhere nicer than Detroit, like, I don't know, Crimea or those World Cup stadium workshops in Qatar.  That will bring the lovely sounds of paradise and help you relax.

-          Have you met your bullpen?  Those guys can probably give you some comic relief.  Just ask Coach Ausmus nicely if Joba Chamberlain can start a game or if Phil Coke can come into a pressure situation and you will be laughing your ass off in no time!  I think we can all agree that any Yankee fan who owned a Joba jersey should be mocked relentlessly, right?  Right.

-          Have you thought about bitching about your contract, doing PED's and cursing in front a lot of children in a public environment?  That seems to make David Ortiz popular in Boston.  You might want to look into it.

-          You won the TRIPLE CROWN!  The fact that these sabermetric nerds say things like, "YEAH, but his WAR is not higher than Mike Trout's and...where is my Fresca?" while they adjust their pocket protectors for the sixth time shouldn't bring you down.  Last time I looked, the Athletics (Mr. Moneyball themselves) haven't won a damn thing since the 80's.  WHAT ABOUT THAT, YOU OPS P.O.S's?!?

-          Mike Trout, most likely, has never had an alcoholic drink in his life.  He has NO idea what he is missing out on.  Hell, he's so young that if you asked him about girls, he would respond, "Ewwwwww, GROSS!  They have cooties!"

-          If sports movies have taught me anything, a good slump can be overcome by getting into a fist fight with one of your teammates or spending a night in jail.  Considering your history, I would recommend the former.

-          Ask Pavel Datsyuk what the hell he does because, frankly, that guy is insane.  I imagine it to be a mixture of herbal treatment and dead cow brains.

-          When on deck, try and spell reliever Al Albuquerque's name.  By the time you get to the plate, your mind will be blank and nothing will seem important except putting bat on ball.

-          Are the issues going on back in your homeland Venezuela distracting you?  If so, I will take care of it.  Seriously, I will go down to Venezuela right now with my good friend Franco Tejada and settle that situation for you.  I am diplomatic and he speaks Spanish and is FROM Venezuela.  Why has the U.N. not sent us down already?  I could solve the Middle East over a two martini lunch! (Note: This might not be true.)

-          Walk up to the plate to some Motown playing to remind of the Detroit natives of a time when their city wasn't just a huge heap of piling crap.  Oh, and drive a Ford for a while.  Just on short trips though.  I wouldn't recommend an American car for long trips or if you have your children with you.  That's German or Japan all the way.

-          Above all, remember that you are MIGUEL CABRERA and, despite being 31 years old now, you are still the biggest, baddest mofo in the game*.  (*Darwin Barney excluded)  Take that knowledge, picture the ball being the face of those horrible Venezuelan d-bags that are trying to ruin your awesome country and pound the hell out of the ball like in years past!

I hope this pep talk has helped.  If you need me, I am just a phone call, email or short flight away.  I really enjoy the Noodle Shop in the Detroit Airport main terminal so, if you would like me to come up for an in-person speech, we could meet there.  I don't venture out into, you know, REAL Detroit because I have at least some people that would be sad if I died*.  (*Darwin Barney Included)  Let's get this season going and, in the meantime, I will be looking at ways to solve that Venezuelan crisis.  Viva Venezuela!  Viva Miguel Cabrera!  Viva The Grand Slam at Denny's!