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from the New York Times

The Trials of Jason Giambi


By Tyler Kepner
January 31, 2005

When Jason Giambi speaks with reporters, he raises his eyebrows and he nods his head, his manner disarming. He often makes a joke and smiles. When he wants to end an interview, he almost always says, "Thanks, guys," and pats someone on the back.

When Giambi plays road games in Oakland, where he grew up as a major leaguer, the fans roast him with jeers during batting practice and games. But he makes a point of signing autographs anyway, grinning and making small talk.

It is Giambi's nature to want to be liked. Even in his testimony to the grand jury investigating the Balco steroids case, as reported in The San Francisco Chronicle eight weeks ago, he seemed especially accommodating. If Barry Bonds was evasive with federal prosecutors, Giambi seemed to tell the truth eagerly.

Giambi plans to meet with members of the news media before spring training for his first public comments since the revelations. He will report to camp in Tampa, Fla., with Yankees position players on Feb. 20. When games start, he will face a season-long test of his mental makeup. Fans will be ruthless, and Giambi will care what they think.

"That's both a strength and a weakness for him," said Billy Beane, the general manager of the Oakland Athletics. "When you're a major league player, it can be a character flaw. But it's not a character flaw as a human being. He's a good guy, and if it affects him, that's because he does care."

However he presents himself, Giambi will be dogged by his testimony, which was leaked to The Chronicle and was, legally, supposed to be private. According to the article, Giambi admitted to injecting human growth hormone into his stomach and testosterone into his buttocks. He also acknowledged using the steroids known as the clear and the cream, which he said he received from Bonds's personal trainer, who has been indicted in the Balco case.

Because of Giambi's admission, many fans - if not teammates - may be hostile toward him. On baseballreference.com, Giambi's page is sponsored by a fan who wrote, "Apply an asterisk to all numbers you see below, especially the M.V.P. award."

The former Yankee Jim Bouton, who rankled players after writing the landmark book "Ball Four" in 1970, said he did not know how teammates would react to Giambi, who admitted to knowingly using steroids. But Bouton's opinion might be typical for fans.

"I really have no sympathy for the guy," Bouton said. "Guys who take steroids are basically looking to cheat their teammates for the opportunity to play, and cheat the opposing team.

"I see steroids as worse than gambling. They have affected the outcome of far more games than gambling. I just don't see him as a sympathetic character."

The Yankees saw the steroid report as a way to get rid of Giambi, who played in only 80 games last season while battling a variety of illnesses. When the report broke, on Dec. 2, the Yankees issued a statement that said they were keeping their options open.

They met with the commissioner's office that day. Finding little chance of voiding the remaining four years and $82 million on his contract, the Yankees resigned themselves to keeping Giambi.

Another Yankee, Gary Sheffield, was also implicated in the Balco case, but the Yankees showed no signs of wanting to unload him. Sheffield was the runner-up for the American League Most Valuable Player award last season; Giambi batted .208.

The Yankees' feelings are probably obvious to Giambi, who lives in Henderson, Nev., in the winter and has been working out twice a day. He saw his former high school coach, Jim Bastion, at his home two weeks ago. Bastion said Giambi was motivated.

"When you reach that level that he reached, and then you have such a terrible year and health problems, I really think that gives you the added incentive to prove people wrong," said Bastion, who coached Giambi at South Hills High School in West Covina, Calif. "I think he'd really like to prove the Yankees wrong in the lack of faith they seem to be showing."

The All-American Family

Giambi was born in West Covina in 1971, the oldest of three children. His brother, Jeremy, has played in the majors for four teams, and his sister, Julie, played softball for Cal State-Fullerton. His father, John, owned banks in Southern California and grew up there as a Yankees fan, idolizing Mickey Mantle.

Giambi has an autographed Mantle baseball on the shelf of his locker at Yankee Stadium, and he wears No. 25 because the digits total 7, Mantle's number. When he signed with the Yankees on Dec. 13, 2001, Giambi cried at his news conference as he told his father, "Pop, it's not No. 7, but we got the pinstripes."

When Ted Williams died in 2002, Giambi recalled how he had studied Williams's book "The Science of Hitting" as a boy. Giambi taped a hitting chart that Williams devised to the cover of his school notebook and studied hitting everywhere, especially at home, where he had a batting cage in the yard.

Giambi had exceptional vision - 20/13 in his right eye - and hand-eye coordination. He was the quarterback on the South Hills football team and played forward for the basketball team. He could dunk and was spry enough that the team devised an inbounds play that was nothing more than a lob to the rim for Giambi to slam.

But, Bastion said, baseball was clearly his priority, and Giambi, who played shortstop and pitched, never doubted he could make the majors. Bastion was not sure, because Giambi was not a fast runner. But Giambi had an advanced knowledge of the strike zone, and refused to swing at bad pitches.

The Milwaukee Brewers drafted him in the 43rd round in 1989, but he planned to attend junior college until Dave Malpass recruited him for Long Beach State. To Malpass, Giambi's life seemed like "Leave It to Beaver" in spikes.

"They were the all-American family, and Jason was Wally Cleaver," Malpass said. "They were clean-cut, and his mother was one of the nicest ladies I've ever met in my life. I was 26 years old, an assistant coach, and it was always 'Coach Malpass' and 'Yes, sir; no, sir.' It was unbelievable."

Giambi became more outgoing during college, Malpass said. He was a joker and a pro wrestling enthusiast, but he was serious about baseball.

John Giambi, who played baseball through junior college, attended every game, often carrying the Williams book. He was the only source Jason trusted for hitting advice, and he still shows up regularly, carefully studying his son in the batting cage.

"John pushed them, but they loved it," Malpass said. "Jason was a baseball guy."

The A's drafted Giambi, then a third baseman, in the second round in 1992, the summer he played with the United States Olympic team. The consensus was that Giambi could be "somewhere between a Dave Magadan and a George Brett," Malpass said, naming a journeyman and a Hall of Famer, both known more for average than power.

Giambi hit 28 homers in 913 minor league at-bats, and the A's called him to the majors in 1995. His power grew steadily - 67 homers in his first three full seasons, 76 in his next two.

"I was tall and kind of lanky," Giambi told The South Florida News Press last year. "In college, I had this big growth spurt. In Oakland, Mark McGwire took me under his wing. I started lifting weights for the first time.

"If I were to change anything, one thing I would have done was start lifting weights younger. Before you knew it, the doubles turned into homers."

McGwire was traded by the A's in 1997, going on to even greater home run renown with the St. Louis Cardinals. Giambi became the A's clubhouse leader, winning the A.L. M.V.P. award in 2000 and nearly repeating in 2001.

He appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated in 2000 with tattooed arms, bulging muscles, a goatee and hair draped over his eyes. Giambi rode a motorcycle - he still wears T-shirts from Simms Custom Cycles in California - and cultivated a rowdy image.

When he signed with the Yankees, for seven years and $120 million, he cut his hair and shaved his goatee, conforming to the principal owner George Steinbrenner's rules. On Giambi's first day of spring training, Steinbrenner wrapped him in a bear hug and told him, "Be yourself."

An Uncomfortable Fit

The corporate culture of the Yankees did not seem to fit Giambi, even though Madison Avenue approved. Arm & Hammer signed him to endorse its UltraMax deodorant; the campaign ended last May and Giambi's contract was not renewed.

Giambi looked most comfortable around Bobby Alejo, the former Oakland strength coach he had hired as his personal trainer. Alejo, who declined to be interviewed for this article, shadowed Giambi, who hit .314 with 41 homers in 2002.

The Yankees irked Giambi by severely restricting Alejo's access the next year. Still, Giambi worked out in the weight room with Alejo after almost every game. Giambi has cited those sessions as proof that he worked hard for his sculptured physique.

He flatly denied using steroids last spring training, two months after he told the grand jury that he used them at least from 2001 through the 2003 All-Star Game break. Since then, Giambi has a .216 average, with 27 homers in 481 at-bats.

The drop-off coincided with a physical breakdown. Giambi's left knee bothered him in the second half of 2003, and a prolonged illness ruined last season. He missed time with an intestinal parasite and a benign tumor, later revealed to be in his pituitary gland.

With Alejo barred from the field and the clubhouse, Giambi often spent time last season with pitcher Tanyon Sturtze, who had been a minor league teammate. Sturtze said he had not spoken to Giambi all winter and declined further comment.

Giambi did not seem close to most teammates, but nobody seemed to dislike him, either. He is considered affable and fun-loving, but not overbearing. This season may be trying for him, but probably not in the clubhouse.

"Jason's a nice guy," said Yankees reliever Mike Stanton, who was Giambi's teammate in 2002. "He's very personable, he's intelligent, he's got a good personality. I would think it would be tough for somebody to hold a long-term grudge on somebody you liked before it started.

"I'm not saying it can't happen, but I think most of his teammates would probably say they just want him to get healthy."

Tony Clark, who backed up Giambi at first base last season, also said teammates would accept him. Clark predicted that Giambi would recover.

"The same commitment he had that made him a superstar in our game will be the driving force behind him excelling again," Clark, who now plays for Arizona, said in an e-mail message. "It won't be easy, but anything worth its weight usually isn't. My hope for him is that through all of the adversity, he finds the strength he needs to have to be a contributor on the field and the inner peace to persevere off of it. I know he can do it."

The Yankees do not share that optimism. Brian Cashman, the general manager, has been encouraged by his recent talks with Giambi. But Cashman could not predict whether Giambi, with all the physical and mental challenges ahead, could ever recapture his old form.

"It's our hope he'll be able to be back to those levels," Cashman said. "But I can't say any more than, 'I hope.' "

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