About a month before September 11th, 2001, a new spanish restaurant opened on Broadway between 231rst and 232nd streets. It is one of at least a dozen joints in the city called Malecon, which I believe is a beach town in the Dominican. This particular Malecon was a cleaner and smarter version of the rice and beans place directly across the street—naturally the food wasn’t as good.

But no matter, it became my new stop for chicken, plantains and rice. Run by two brothers who love the Yankees—or J’ankees as it were—we spent a lot of time during that emotional 2001 post season talking baseball. But the day after the Diamondbacks tripped up the Bombers in Game 7, Javier, the good looking brother–well dressed, and heavily cologned—was devastated.

Of course, I had been up half the night myself, but come the next day, I tried to put a positive spin on it all. And I put all my hopes in one basket: the Yanks needed to go out and sign Jason Giambi. I pleaded with Javier to relax because the Bombers were going to get this slugger and we would be OK.

But he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to feel better. So I left him alone. During the following weeks, when I came through to get some grub, I kept up the Giambi talk. Pretty soon, everytime I walked through the door, Javier and the boys working the counter greeted me as Giambi.

Except it sounded more like, “G’om-Bee.” Then of course, Giambi signed with New York, and the nickname stuck. As time passed, the pronounciation became more exaggerated, more sing-songy. Each time I stepped foot into the Malecon, about eight guys greeted me with a chorus of “Gee-oh’mm-beee.” I felt like Norm from “Cheers.” I called each one of them “G’om-bee” in return to make all things equal. It reached the point where they didn’t remember what my real name is and vice versa. We were all “G’om-bee.”

I’ve pulled for Mr. Giambi hard, ever since he came to New York. In fact, I wrote him an eight-page, welcome-to-New York letter during his first spring training. It was the first fan letter I’ve ever written to a ballplayer. I can’t fully explain why I felt the need to connect with the big lug, but perhaps after losing key figures like O’Neill, Martinez and Brosius, I wanted to believe the Yanks would be in good hands.

I’m proud of the way Giambi has played through injuries this season, and hope that the whispers of his decline are premature. But as one AL scout told Ken Rosenthal this week:

“He’s starting to break down physically