Part of the pleasure in watching David Ortiz, the great designated hitter of the Boston Red Sox, play baseball is the physical exuding of a captivating personality; everything this large and gregarious man does makes you think of something else lively and loud. When he walks towards the plate for his turn at bat, a massive girth taking tiny steps on well-tapered legs, he resembles a sea lion maneuvering through a rocky surf. At the batter’s box, he spits purposefully into each gloved palm, claps a single, mighty optimistic clap, and positions himself into a wide, menacing crouch that brings to mind a self-propelled field artillery piece—with an irresistible gap-toothed smile.

And then he fails. Day after day, night after night this season we have watched him fail. It is a slump fully as majestic as the 6’ 4” 230 pound slumper himself. Through last year, Mr. Ortiz was the batter opposing pitchers were least eager to face during crucial situations. In 2004, he led the Red Sox to their first World Series victory since 1918, and then to another in 2007. Now, at 33, still in his playing prime, Mr. Ortiz is, statistically speaking, the worst everyday hitter in the American league. It has been a stunning demise. A primary human fear is that we will suddenly lose our ability to do what we do best and be exposed as a fraud for all to see…

The rest of the story:   When Brilliance Hits a Slump – WSJ.com.