Edition: U.S. / Global

Sports of The Times; Giambi Quickly Becoming A Very Expensive Misfit

Published: July 4, 2004

THERE is something eating Jason Giambi, but is it a parasite or paranoia?

Every time Tony Clark extends his 6-foot-7 body like a periscope at first base to see all, know all and reach all, Giambi's defensive insecurities must fight for space in his head.

Few moves were niftier than the double play Clark started for the Yankees with a leaping skyhook grab on Cliff Floyd's liner at Shea Stadium yesterday.

Each time Clark unfurls an oiled swing that sends another pitch parachuting over the wall, Giambi must fear irrelevance as much as the wormhole inside his body.

What was more impressive? The way Clark spring-loaded a home run early in the game, the uppercut he delivered for a homer later in the game or the double that arched like an eyebrow as it bounded over the center-field wall in the middle of the game?

The latest Clark revival only underscores Giambi's position as the misfit among pinstripes, as the $120 million enigma, as the player locked in an increasingly complicated identity crisis.

Who is Giambi? And what do the Yankees do with him? With a heavy disclaimer -- or, as the Shea public address announcer put it, ''Now pitching, John Franco'' -- Giambi became a successful pinch-hitter when he whipped a double down the right-field line in a futile effort to save the Yankees from a 10-9 loss to the Mets.

Giambi is not paid to be a pinch-hitter, but he has played this cameo role since he was found last week to have a parasite that has devoured his energy.

''Today, I felt a lot better,'' Giambi said. ''But after I got the double, I was exhausted.''

Not even the Yankees' soothsayer manager, Joe Torre, can predict when Giambi's lethargic system will be debugged.

''He was eating garbage in there, so it must be a good sign,'' Torre said, referring to the clubhouse pastries. ''Nobody likes to sit around when they're used to contributing.''

The longer Giambi sits, the harder it is to decide where he belongs. When Giambi does perk up, the Yankees may have a curious shell game to play at designated hitter.

On defense alone, Clark has earned his place at first base, which would leave a designated hitter role to be split among Bernie Williams, Kenny Lofton and Giambi.

The multiple-choice conundrum could expedite a trade of Lofton, but Giambi is the true Yankees albatross, with his weighty salary and delicate psyche.

On the field, Giambi is a defensive liability, a fact illuminated when Nick Johnson was anchored on first base as much as the 2003 playoffs would allow, a situation revisited when George Steinbrenner snarled at Giambi's most recent first-base lapses.

At the plate, Giambi is a withering vision of power, hitting .239 with an on-base percentage of .376, which would be impressive in ''Moneyball'' wisdom but falls flat in Yankees logic considering he is paid to produce runs, not draw walks.

In the clubhouse, Giambi is a high-maintenance curiosity among low-maintenance superstars, pouting when his personal trainer was barred from the facilities during a Balco-induced baseball sweep of player gurus, posses and potion brewmasters.

This is not the Giambi anyone expected when the Yankees seduced him with the perfume of cash in 2001. Until he arrived, Giambi was the tattooed rebel leader of the Oakland A's, a heavy-metal devotee with scraggly hair dangling like stalactites over his eyes.

His statistics, body and even his voice conveyed power in Oakland. Giambi had the heart and ear of General Manager Billy Beane, and a love connection with the fans. Then he walked into the Yankee kingdom cleansed of his bad-boy persona.

Giambi gave up his identity too easily. He has yet to get it back.

The Yankees could try to soothe his fragile state by allowing Bob Alejo -- Giambi's physical trainer/ego masseuse/all-around pal -- to loiter around the team's inner sanctum.

Without Alejo, Giambi has appeared friendless in the Yankees clubhouse. Giambi wasn't popular after he bailed out of the lineup before Game 5 of the World Series. And he hasn't played in pain since Alejo was banished.

As a result, he has looked as timid as a wallflower next to his gallant teammates.

There has been an excessive deification of Derek Jeter after his Slip 'N Slide-style plunge into the Yankee Stadium seats Thursday night, leaving him approximately 36 stitches and a pair of dentures behind the average hockey player.

But his effort should have been an example to everyone, including Giambi. If not Jeter, how about Gary Sheffield?

Sheffield does have the pain threshold of a fire-walker; so it may be unfair to compare his ability to play with a shredded shoulder, but he makes Giambi's struggle against a microscopic menace look weak.

Is Giambi afraid of trying and failing? Is he more insecure than ever? The performance of Tony Clark can only heighten his anxieties.

What's best for Giambi may be a send-off. If given a chance, Giambi might approve a trade to return him to Oakland, but the Yankees wouldn't want to pay the freight to make it happen.

Of course, if the Yankees don't eat Giambi's deal, a parasite just might.

Photo: Jason Giambi had a pinch-hit double in the ninth inning yesterday. (Photo by Associated Press)(pg. 7)