Torborg's cooler head helped save passionate Guillen's career

Torborg talked at length with Guillen late that Saturday evening.

"I thought I had him convinced," said Torborg, now retired in Sarasota, Fla., during a telephone conversation the other night.

And do you know what? Next day, when the Marlins were scheduled to leave for San Diego after the final game of the homestand, a still smoking Guillen showed up at the park dressed in ... shorts. No major league club allows shorts on charter flights. Oh ... Ozzie didn't bring a suitcase, either.

Torborg got a call at home that morning from his son, Dale, who was the Marlins strength coach and who hadn't been fired -- yet.

"He told me Ozzie had packed up his stuff in some boxes, had the boxes all taped up and told people he was going home," Torborg said.

As a manager, one of Guillen's biggest assets is that he is both genuine and blunt. It wins the respect and affection of players -- and it keeps them. When was the last time you heard a former White Sox player take off after Guillen in public (well, OK, other than Frank Thomas)? Keep thinking. It's going to take awhile.

At the same time, these traits also can be Guillen's biggest detriment. They got him sent to sensitivity counseling in 2006 (when he uttered a slur against gays), and they caused moments like the one in Toronto a couple of weeks ago, when, fed up with a steady flow of negativity by outsiders toward his slumping team, Guillen fired back in a Windy City tirade not seen since Lee Elia was managing the Cubs.

"Right now everyone in Chicago is making lineups -- 'Call up this guy, call up that guy,'" Guillen told reporters that day. "If we had 50 people allowed on the roster, we could to that. That's what ticks me off about Chicago fans and Chicago media. They forget pretty quickly.

"A couple of days ago, we were the f------ best s--- in town. Now, we're s---."

And he went on from there.

The incident, just like the aftermath of the Torborg firing, demonstrates Guillen's loyalty and passion. Often, it's lovable. Sometimes, it's not. But by far, the good outweighs the bad.

Torborg, now 66, and Guillen, 44, became acquainted when Torborg managed the White Sox from 1989-1991 and Guillen was his shortstop. When Torborg was named as Montreal's manager, replacing Felipe Alou in 2001, one of his first phone calls was to Guillen with an invitation to join his coaching staff. Guillen did -- the first of three seasons he spent as a coach, his apprenticeship to becoming a major league manager.

"I'm not a prognosticator, but his leadership ability ... to see what I saw years before," Torborg said. "Two or three weeks after I was fired, I called (White Sox owner) Jerry Reinsdorf in Chicago and told him, 'I'm not suggesting you replace your manager (Jerry Manuel), but I know how you feel about Ozzie, and he's ready to manage.'

"I mean, you've never seen a guy work with young players the way he does. Especially with young Latinos. He's tough. He tells them what he expects. Then he puts his arm around 'em and takes 'em out to dinner."

Guillen, who did wind up replacing Manuel after that '03 season -- becoming the first native Venezuelan to manage in the big leagues -- denied having anything to do with the inflatable doll flap two weekends ago in Toronto. Though he quickly found himself embroiled in the controversy, nonetheless. It's his team.

What happened was, some badly slumping White Sox players, looking for, shall we say, a creative way to change their luck, brought a couple of inflatable female dolls into the clubhouse in Toronto. The dolls reportedly were nude, with a strategically placed bat propping one of them up from behind. They also were adorned with a couple of signs, one of which was a play on coach Jeff Cox's motivational catch-phrase of the year, "You've got to push."

Juvenile? Yes. National outrage? Hardly.

Everything must be sanitized today. Some folks spend more time looking for things to be insulted by than they do grooming themselves.

Guess what? Sometimes, things get messy. Sometimes, the corners don't all fold up neatly. In the clubhouse, players sometimes use coarse language. Sometimes, they even look at Playboy.

And often, Guillen isn't politically correct. Get over it.

"He has a knack for pulling guys together," Torborg said. "People don't realize, he's quick. His quick tongue gets him in trouble sometimes. But that same quickness has players realizing he's tough, but that he'll also back them."

That Sunday in '03, wearing shorts and planning to quit the Marlins, Guillen spoke again with Torborg by telephone. The fired manager delivered the same emphatic message: Don't quit. You've got a career. Guillen met with Marlins owner Jeffrey Loria and general manager Larry Beinfest, who also asked him to stay.

Finally, convinced, Guillen phoned one of his sons and asked him to bring a suitcase to the ballpark. When that afternoon's game was finished, Guillen was still the Marlins' third-base coach. And he headed out on the road with the team, toward San Diego and toward his future.

"I think it's destiny," Guillen said. "Because I told my wife the situation at the time, I told her I've got a few more years to coach in the big leagues, and it's like going to college. I'd coach for a few years, but if I didn't graduate, become a major league manager ..."

So now, the Education of Ozzie Guillen continues. But, then? If things had deteriorated further that weekend in '03?

"Maybe," Guillen said. "I'd just be in (Venezuelan) winter league baseball."