He was a ballplayer’s ballplayer.
That, right there, is the ultimate compliment that complements Jason Giambi’s playing career, which ended Monday with his retirement at age 44.
Sure, fans loved him — even here in Denver, when he was more Jeremy Giambi than the MVP Jason. And sure, fans were turned off by him, because Giambi is “one of those guys” from the steroid era.
But I respect Giambi because of what he meant inside that baseball fraternity. He was Otter from “Animal House,” the personality and persona that everyone aspired to be. First all the rage, he became a sage.
Giambi’s legacy in baseball circles isn’t about, as Todd Helton put it Monday, “stats and all that other (expletive).” As this 40-something retired slugger said of another: “Probably the best thing you can be is known for being one of the best teammates that anyone has ever played with. If you played on his team, you know Jason Giambi is a great guy and a great teammate. Which is what you want to be remembered for.
PHOTOS:
“He loves to make people better. If he’s in the room, everyone is sitting and listening to Big G.”
Giambi, yes, is clumped in with those names that used to make our arm hair raise but now make our skin crawl — Barry Bonds, Rafael Palmeiro, Sammy Sosa and others. Giambi’s juicing altered history and, creatively, inspired a mid-2000s T-shirt that said “G I AM BIG” on the back, above his jersey number. But I sense that his apology lessened the vitriol. In a game of users and nonusers, he was one of the bad guys, but he’s not a bad guy.
Fans don’t remember , truths and half-truths. They remember moments. Sentiments. And there’s Giambi in 2005, apologizing for having “let down” fans and his team. And there’s Giambi, after a walk-off homer, embraced by teammates at home plate like it was Mardi Gras in September. Teammates throughout the major leagues, in Oakland, New York, Cleveland and, of course, Colorado.
I mean, how well-liked was this guy? The Rockies almost made this player their manager before hiring Walt Weiss. Imagine if Giambi had just coached on the side at Regis Jesuit? Dream candidate!
Even when he was 40 and hitting .260, Giambi sat at his locker with a royal aura.
“Currency in baseball locker rooms is weighed by whether the guy is a gamer, and if he’s a good teammate,” said Ryan Spilborghs, who played with Giambi in Colorado. “Does he show up every day ready to play if he’s hurt, tired or struggling? Does he play hard all game? Does he do his best every at-bat? In Giambi’s case, yes — he was exceptional. Baseball is such a grind with highs and lows that being a supportive teammate is as important as putting up good numbers.
“Giambi had gone through every experience you could have at the major-league level, so being able to offer advice and encouragement was invaluable to the group.”
Four hundred forty home runs and five consecutive all-star appearances make his résumé, but his helps explain his legacy. It’s weird, but his lucky thong was everything you needed to know about Giambi the teammate and Giambi the dude. Like an old baseball story from the Brooklyn Dodgers days, we don’t know the full details — like, notably, which lady did this thong first belong to? But we know that Giambi procured the thong, and it became part of Rockies locker room lore. If you were slumping, wear the thong.
“There have been many all-stars who have worn that thing,” Spilly said. “The golden thong had no power or magic for me. I’m one of the only players to wear it and not get a hit.”
But the existence of the thong, and the perceived magic involved, is just so Giambi — fun, likable, a little out there and forever young.
Benjamin Hochman: bhochman@ denverpost.com or
