A hero who has fallen from grace
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
In the previous column on this website, I wrote about my visit to the "National Italian American Sports Hall of Fame" in Chicago. I also mentioned how, while there, I thought of a certain Italian-American Major League Baseball player who was neither honored in the Hall nor featured in any of its exhibits. He was a player I had truly loved. This time, I would like to talk about him.
Jason Giambi. He made his Major League debut with the Oakland Athletics in 1995 and quickly made a name for himself as a powerful hitter. He moved to the New York Yankees in 2002, where he continued to excel as a slugger. Later, he played for teams such as the Colorado Rockies before finally retiring in 2014.
It was after Giambi moved to the New York Yankees that the issue of steroid use among Major League players erupted into a major scandal. After this issue came to light, Giambi admitted to using substances such as anabolic steroids and human growth hormone, and he apologized.However, there is no denying that his image as a slugger suffered a severe blow; one could even say he became a "fallen idol."
It may be because of this drug scandal that the "National Italian American Sports Hall of Fame" has chosen not to honor Giambi or display any exhibits related to him.
And yet, it is a terrible shame—because I believe Giambi could have achieved outstanding results without ever using drugs like steroids or human growth hormone.
There are two American films that serve not only to remind us of Giambi’s poignant and tragic situation but to highlight it even further.
The first is "25th Hour" (2002). Set in New York, the film centers on a protagonist who has been convicted of drug trafficking and has only one day left before he must report to prison. The film depicts how a man spends his final day, and there is a scene where, overcome by a sense of emptiness, he rants to himself in a restaurant restroom.
New York is home to a vast array of races and ethnicities. Inside the restroom, the man hurls insults at these various groups one after another; regarding Italian-Americans, he rants as follows:
"Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their Jason Giambi Louisville Slugger baseball bats trying to audition for ‘The Sopranos’."
In other words, the film positions Giambi as a hero to New York’s Italian-American community. The film was released in the U.S. in late 2002—after Giambi had finished his first season with the New York Yankees but about two years before the steroid scandal came to light. ...Had the film’s production been delayed by even a few years, Giambi likely wouldn't have been portrayed as a hero to Italian-Americans. Reflecting on this situation highlights just how drastically Giambi has become a "fallen idol," evoking a sense of sadness and melancholy.
Next is *Moneyball* (2011). While the film focuses on the Oakland Athletics' 2002 season, it repeatedly depicts what an extraordinary player Giambi was—having left the Athletics for the Yankees the previous year—and the immense struggle the team's staff faced in trying to fill the void he left behind. Watching these scenes conveys the sense of emptiness surrounding Giambi—because it appears he began using anabolic steroids in 2001.
Something similar is happening with other Major Leaguers as well.
Consider the 2001 American film *Hardball*, set in Chicago. A young white man, obsessed with gambling, unexpectedly becomes the coach of a baseball team made up of boys from a low-income Black neighborhood. After hitting it big with a bet, he takes these impoverished boys—who have never seen a Major League game—to Wrigley Field to watch the Chicago Cubs play. Naturally, the boys are overjoyed. Upon entering the stadium, they go wild when they spot their idol, Cubs star Sammy Sosa. Sosa himself appears in the film, waving to the boys. ... ...After this film was produced and released—regrettably—suspicions arose that Sosa had used performance enhancing drugs. I wonder if Sosa remains an idol for young Black boys in Chicago to this day?
At times, movies—even unintentionally—highlight the poignant and tragic circumstances of real-life figures, leaving us with a sense of emptiness.
(If I’ve made a mistake or left out something important, please let me know. I’ll try to make corrections or additions.)