duke of dorwood
11-28-2001, 06:48 PM
ONE BY ONE, designated New York Yankees are picking up the phone to dial Jason Giambi's number. Manager Joe Torre called Monday. Derek Jeter and Mike Mussina will call, if they haven't already.
They are making their pitch to Oakland's free-agent first baseman in hopes of luring him to New York.
But what, really, can they say about the Yankees that Jason doesn't know?
He knows about the tradition and the mystique. He knows they wear pinstripes. He knows New York is the city that never sleeps. He knows Yankees boss George Steinbrenner spits millions several times a day.
There are some things, however, the Yankees probably won't mention. And those factors have Jason pondering whether he really wants to make this move.
They might, in the end, be enough to keep him in Oakland -- despite the shell game the owners have played with their contract proposal.
The Yankees are not the team that has won four of the last six World Series. They are remaking their roster, with the probability of half the starting lineup changing for 2002.
Two regular position players, right fielder Paul O'Neill and third baseman Scott Brosius, have retired. A valued reserve, Luis Sojo, retired. Right fielder/DH David Justice and left fielder Chuck Knoblauch are unlikely to return.
First baseman Tino Martinez, a fixture for six years is likely gone, especially if Giambi signs with the Yankees.
New York's pitching staff is anchored by Roger Clemens, who turns 40 next summer. Orlando Hernandez is said to be 32 but speculated to be as old as 37.
Might the Yankees, in their conversations with Giambi, mention they do not have a bright, clear future?
No matter who is wearing the pinstripes -- only Derek Jeter, Bernie Williams and Jorge Posada among the position players have long-term contracts -- the organization is committed to button-down professionalism. It is perhaps the most austere team envi ronment in sports.
It's corporate culture the way it used to be, sober and restrained, low voices and stiff upper lips. Everything but the company-issue wing tips.
Want to blast music in the clubhouse? Check with the leadership council.
Want to grow a goatee? Get approval from upstairs.
Want to wear jeans and a T-shirt for road trips? Run it past the bosses.
Want to sit in front of your locker, hair draped over your neck, tattoos visible, munching burgers from McDonald's? Not in the Yankees' clubhouse.
Want to skip pregame ground-ball practice sessions? You're in the wrong place, pal. If Jeter takes grounders, and if he does, you will take grounders.
Is this the kind of staid environment into which Giambi, one of baseball's true free spirits, wants to lock himself?
If he would like to continue being the big dog, presiding over the craziest kennel of a clubhouse, he stays with Oakland. The truly honest Yankee would advise him as much.
The same might be true if Jason insists on playing first base. Giambi, who turns 31 in January, insists on playing defense because he has an appreciation for baseball history. He aspires to the Hall Of Fame and he knows borderline cases are hurt by extended time at DH -- which is where the Yankees are said to prefer him for most games.
Some would say there are $100million, maybe $120million, reasons why Giambi would swallow his pride and move to Manhattan. Those are the kind of figures reportedly discussed by Giambi's agent, Arn Tellem, and Yankees general manager Brian Cashman.
Can it be that easy? Can a man who enjoys swilling beer and off-road driving simply wipe his mouth, dust himself off and saunter into the country club?
Although $120million is more than the A's standing offer ($91million), is it enough to make Jason happy in surroundings more restrictive than any he has ever known?
Understand, Giambi is not the uninhibited iconoclast he sometimes appears to be. He's no barbarian. He is, however, the sort of a rogue whose favored behavior, while mostly benign, is out of place in an organization that operates with the grave seriousness and detail of a military academy.
Giambi going to the Yankees would mean a purple Harley parked sideways among the neat row of white Mercedes Benzes. It would be like Kid Rock joining N'SYNC, Snoop Dogg moving in with the Huxtables.
Not that the Yankees would acknowledge this clash of styles.
But it's something Jason is too smart to miss.
There is a factor, too, against which the Yankees have no defense. Family. The Giambis are as tight as family can be, as tight as their names -- John (father), Jeanne (mother), Jason, Jeremy and Julie -- are close.
The Giambis all live in California and have for at least the entire lives of the children. They sometimes travel together in groups of three, four or five. There is a bond, and Jason's fiancee, Kristian Rice, has long been a part of it despite the marriage being more than a month away.
Everything about Jason is a product of his California upbringing. It's all he knows and it's what he loves. A move across the country, to pick up an extra mil or two per year, is a gamble that could turn his life upside down.
Probably something the Yankees, in their relentless pursuit, won't bother to mention.
They are making their pitch to Oakland's free-agent first baseman in hopes of luring him to New York.
But what, really, can they say about the Yankees that Jason doesn't know?
He knows about the tradition and the mystique. He knows they wear pinstripes. He knows New York is the city that never sleeps. He knows Yankees boss George Steinbrenner spits millions several times a day.
There are some things, however, the Yankees probably won't mention. And those factors have Jason pondering whether he really wants to make this move.
They might, in the end, be enough to keep him in Oakland -- despite the shell game the owners have played with their contract proposal.
The Yankees are not the team that has won four of the last six World Series. They are remaking their roster, with the probability of half the starting lineup changing for 2002.
Two regular position players, right fielder Paul O'Neill and third baseman Scott Brosius, have retired. A valued reserve, Luis Sojo, retired. Right fielder/DH David Justice and left fielder Chuck Knoblauch are unlikely to return.
First baseman Tino Martinez, a fixture for six years is likely gone, especially if Giambi signs with the Yankees.
New York's pitching staff is anchored by Roger Clemens, who turns 40 next summer. Orlando Hernandez is said to be 32 but speculated to be as old as 37.
Might the Yankees, in their conversations with Giambi, mention they do not have a bright, clear future?
No matter who is wearing the pinstripes -- only Derek Jeter, Bernie Williams and Jorge Posada among the position players have long-term contracts -- the organization is committed to button-down professionalism. It is perhaps the most austere team envi ronment in sports.
It's corporate culture the way it used to be, sober and restrained, low voices and stiff upper lips. Everything but the company-issue wing tips.
Want to blast music in the clubhouse? Check with the leadership council.
Want to grow a goatee? Get approval from upstairs.
Want to wear jeans and a T-shirt for road trips? Run it past the bosses.
Want to sit in front of your locker, hair draped over your neck, tattoos visible, munching burgers from McDonald's? Not in the Yankees' clubhouse.
Want to skip pregame ground-ball practice sessions? You're in the wrong place, pal. If Jeter takes grounders, and if he does, you will take grounders.
Is this the kind of staid environment into which Giambi, one of baseball's true free spirits, wants to lock himself?
If he would like to continue being the big dog, presiding over the craziest kennel of a clubhouse, he stays with Oakland. The truly honest Yankee would advise him as much.
The same might be true if Jason insists on playing first base. Giambi, who turns 31 in January, insists on playing defense because he has an appreciation for baseball history. He aspires to the Hall Of Fame and he knows borderline cases are hurt by extended time at DH -- which is where the Yankees are said to prefer him for most games.
Some would say there are $100million, maybe $120million, reasons why Giambi would swallow his pride and move to Manhattan. Those are the kind of figures reportedly discussed by Giambi's agent, Arn Tellem, and Yankees general manager Brian Cashman.
Can it be that easy? Can a man who enjoys swilling beer and off-road driving simply wipe his mouth, dust himself off and saunter into the country club?
Although $120million is more than the A's standing offer ($91million), is it enough to make Jason happy in surroundings more restrictive than any he has ever known?
Understand, Giambi is not the uninhibited iconoclast he sometimes appears to be. He's no barbarian. He is, however, the sort of a rogue whose favored behavior, while mostly benign, is out of place in an organization that operates with the grave seriousness and detail of a military academy.
Giambi going to the Yankees would mean a purple Harley parked sideways among the neat row of white Mercedes Benzes. It would be like Kid Rock joining N'SYNC, Snoop Dogg moving in with the Huxtables.
Not that the Yankees would acknowledge this clash of styles.
But it's something Jason is too smart to miss.
There is a factor, too, against which the Yankees have no defense. Family. The Giambis are as tight as family can be, as tight as their names -- John (father), Jeanne (mother), Jason, Jeremy and Julie -- are close.
The Giambis all live in California and have for at least the entire lives of the children. They sometimes travel together in groups of three, four or five. There is a bond, and Jason's fiancee, Kristian Rice, has long been a part of it despite the marriage being more than a month away.
Everything about Jason is a product of his California upbringing. It's all he knows and it's what he loves. A move across the country, to pick up an extra mil or two per year, is a gamble that could turn his life upside down.
Probably something the Yankees, in their relentless pursuit, won't bother to mention.