My childhood unofficially ended a few days ago.
It’s time to turn the page to a new chapter of life — one that doesn’t include one of the most prominent figures of my childhood.
When someone asks you to think about your childhood, there are undoubtedly a handful of memorable people pop into your head. Whether it be parents, teachers, friends, or maybe even enemies, these people shaped who we are today.
We wouldn’t be who we are without these people. We wouldn’t believe the things we do. We wouldn’t be us.
And as time goes on, we’re forcibly ripped from these people who played such big roles in our lives. Things happen. Life happens. Perhaps it’s death. Maybe it’s going to college or landing a new job away from home, but in this case, it’s retirement.
When Miguel Cabrera announced in late 2022 his intentions to retire after the 2023 Major League Baseball season, I didn’t know what to think.
No sports icon has graced my television screen more in my entire life than Cabrera. He was all I knew.
I’m not a Tigers fan by any stretch of the imagination. I’ll watch when they’re on or when I have nothing to do, but I’m no fan.
Yet, watching Miggy play his last baseball game ever felt like a punch to the gut. Even though I’m not a fan, I could always count on being able to watch one of the greatest players ever on any given summer day.
But now it’s over.
Miggy is retired, and the luxury of sitting down and watching the Venezuelan native intimidate pitchers is gone.
Cabrera was traded from the Florida Marlins to the Detroit Tigers on my fifth birthday.
I’d be lying if I said I remember anything about the trade or any moments from Cabrera’s first few years in a Tigers uniform. But that’s the point — this guy has been playing in Detroit since before I hardly knew what baseball was. When I first grasped the concept of baseball, he was playing.
And 15 years later (which seems like an eternity, by the way), he’s just now retiring at 40 years old.
It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that I’m mere months away from graduating college, and a player I’ve never known to not be in the game of baseball is just now getting around to hanging up the cleats.
It wouldn’t be as emotional if Cabrera was just some above-average player, though.
If Miguel Cabrera was just an above-average baseball player, this column wouldn’t be necessary. We’d say, “Congratulations on a great career, Miguel. Enjoy retirement,” and move on with our lives.
But Cabrera was no above-average baseball player.
He wasn’t even a great baseball player.
He’s one of the greatest baseball players of all time.
According to Baseball Almanac, there have been 20,528 players in MLB history.
Of those 20,528 players, Cabrera is one of just 177 to have finished their career with a batting average of at least .300.
That’s the top 0.86 percent.
Of those 20,528 players, Cabrera is one of just 33 to have recorded at least 3,000 hits.
That’s the top 0.16 percent.
Of those 20,528 players, Cabrera is one of just 28 to have recorded at least 500 home runs.
That’s the top 0.13 percent.
Of those 20,528 players, Cabrera is one of just 10 players to have won the triple crown (leading either the American League or National League in batting average, home runs and runs batted in) since RBIs became an official statistic in 1920, according to Major League Baseball.
That’s the top .04 percent.
And of those 20,528 players, he’s the only player to fit into all four categories.
He was elite. And that’s what makes saying goodbye so hard.
I love Miguel. Detroit loves Miguel. Baseball loves Miguel.
Turning the page to life’s next chapter will be unfathomable for those who grew up watching Cabrera.
Perhaps before the Miguel Cabrera chapter gets lost in the shuffle of all the other pages in the book of life, we can rip this one out of the book and frame it.
