One of the baseball's most productive hitters in the past decade will be writing a new chapter of his life come Wednesday afternoon.

As of mid-afternoon Tuesday, Texas Ranger 1B/DH Prince Fielder has been deemed medically disabled, and unfit for competition by doctors who oversaw a surgical procedure performed on the slugger's ailing neck on July 29.

It was Fielder's second neck surgery since 2014.

Before 2014, Prince was not only one of the baseball's most prolific and feared swingmen, but he was a model of consistency. From 2006, his first full year as a Major Leaguer, up until the end of the 2013 campaign, Just as impressive as his majestic, towering home run drives complimented with his flash and showmanship at the dish, was the fact that he played in all but 13 contests in that eight-year span.

It's no secret that the Prince fought demons his entire life in pertinence to his weight. Could he have kept himself in better shape? If he had, could we be talking about a career with more longevity to it? Of course, he could've. But life is circumstantial, and we never know what goes on behind closed doors of an individual's house, or what crosses their mind, or the habits they find themselves continually falling victim to time after time. Yet, the numbers don't lie. No matter the lifestyle, the man was productive and played nine innings, 162 times over, each and every day. How many guys these days can say that?

Quite frankly, in Prince's situation, all that becomes null and void to most. You knew what you were getting; a less than shapely individual who, to the average fan, doesn't look anything like the model of the average, productive baseball player we all now have in our heads.

What did he do, though, that even the fittest and physically impressive players cannot do, is he stayed on the field. That should be praised in today's "new age", riddled with platoon players, lefty vs. righty matchups, "who owns which pitcher" and "who should ride the pine" against the rival's ace? Who needs a day of rest for weary legs?

Not Prince.

As a baseball player, you're expected to go through your fair share of hardships. It's part of our perfectly imperfect game. Today's style of gameplay essentially handicaps players from learning how to work through their struggles at the highest of levels. How will we as fans, managers or coaches know if "Player X" will EVER learn how to hit that tough lefty arm out of the bullpen, without living on the dangerous side and letting him keep his spot in the order as opposed to relinquishing his role to a pinch hitter?

Prince went through his share of hardships during his first taste of the Bigs for a cup of coffee in 2005. While the peripherals look promising (.288 AVG, 2 HR, 10 RBI in 59 at-bats), what's underlying really speaks to the due-diligence that Prince should be remembered for.

His strikeout total equaled his hit total (17), and the young boy drew just two walks. That spells trouble when equated out to a season's worth of games. Prince knew that, too, and in just a single offseason, both his knack for contact and plate recognition had been sharpened so greatly that, come 2006, he was in serious competition for Rookie of the Year, and by 2007, was driving 50 baseballs out of ballparks all over the United States. All while showing up to the post day in, day out, clocking in 160+ times a year.

Prince will be missed in the game. He was an ambassador; a fun-loving, competitive man who exuded an infectious smile, backed up with a swing so powerfully vicious, that it could only have been the cause of genetics passed down by his father, Cecil.

There's truly no smooth way to say goodbye to a game you've been playing your entire life, but this one makes our hearts hurt just a little more.