Greenberg: Ozzie Guillén’s lucky No. 13 is getting retired by the White Sox, and it’s about time

Ozzie Guillén does a lot of things on TV.

He laughs, he criticizes, he pokes fun. He does it all as the Spanglish-speaking ace of the Chicago White Sox’s pre- and postgame show that is, on too many days, more entertaining than the actual game.

But on Friday, he did something new.

“They made me cry,” he said.

Guillén was moved to tears during the Sox’s home opener against the Toronto Blue Jays, and for once, it wasn’t because of the way the team was playing. During the Sox’s 5-4 victory, Scott Podsednik announced to Guillén that the team was retiring his No. 13 on Aug. 8. As Podsednik read the announcement, which was piped into the stadium’s sound system, Guillén joked, “Another bobblehead?” When he got the real news, the waterworks were flowing.

“Thank god I didn’t curse,” he said.

Guillén is certainly deserving of being the 13th person in franchise history, and the first manager, to get this honor. He skippered the Sox to the 2005 World Series, going 11-1 in the postseason, and finished his managing career here with a 678-617 record. He won more games and filled more notebooks than anyone before or after him.

As a player, he was the Sox shortstop for 13 seasons, winning the 1985 AL Rookie of the Year, one Gold Glove and making three All-Star teams.

Now, he’s a TV star, not an easy task for someone who speaks English as a second language. But as anyone who has talked to Guillén knows, he’s one of a kind.

“I’ve been lucky in Chicago, man, I’m telling you,” he said. “A lot of people know me as a player. A lot of people know me as a manager. And a lot of kids know me as the crazy guy on TV.”

When A.J. Pierzynski and other players brought up the idea of retiring their old manager’s number last season during the 2005 reunion, I was a little confused. They hadn’t done that yet?

The Sox aren’t bashful about this kind of thing. They have more statues than a museum. White Sox chairman Jerry Reinsdorf retired Harold Baines’ number in 1989, three weeks after the team traded him to Texas, when the Rangers came through town. (“I find that there’s a big void in my life with Harold gone,” Reinsdorf said that day. “This kind of helps ease the pain.”)

Guillén will join a list of players he has connections with, from guys he managed like Paul Konerko and Mark Buehrle to guys he played with like Frank Thomas and Baines to guys he idolized like fellow Venezuelan Luis Aparicio.

He said he sometimes looks up at the numbers at the ballpark and thinks about being between Aparicio (11) and Konerko (14). He had a fine career as a glove-first shortstop, and while he often poked fun at his offensive shortcomings — he hit .265 with 24 homers in 1,743 games with the Sox — his value went beyond metrics. So did his love for the franchise, which has endured despite some rocky moments.

“I always try to represent the White Sox the best I can all my life,” he said.

The Sox traded for Guillén after the 1984 season, sending 1983 Cy Young winner LaMarr Hoyt to San Diego in a multiplayer deal. Guillén wasn’t much to look at back then, a skinny Venezuelan kid with a mustache hiding a big mouth. He couldn’t wear his No. 9 because it was retired for Minnie Minoso, so when he joined the club in 1985, he picked 13 to honor his favorite player, Dave Concepción.

He talked about when former Sox clubhouse manager “Chicken” Willie Thompson picked up Luis Salazar and him at the Bradenton, Fla., airport that spring.

As Guillén remembers it, he was sitting next to Salazar when Thompson said, “Did the Ozzie guy miss the flight?”

“No, that’s him,” Salazar replied.

“Chicken Willie looked at me and said, ‘Oh, God,’” Guillén said with a laugh. “Because back in the day, when you make those trades, that guy is going to be with you for a little while.”

That was 41 years ago. Guillén played a few years with other clubs at the end of his career before going into coaching. He was hired as the Sox manager in 2003 after winning a World Series as the third-base coach with the Florida Marlins. Two years later, he was holding up a trophy in Houston and leading a parade in downtown Chicago.

“I didn’t cry when I won the World Series because I was getting paid to do that,” he said.

This was different. Guillén has an ego. He knows he’s a better manager than everyone who has come after him on the South Side (including the aged version of Tony La Russa). He’s wanted the job again over the years, but the team has continually passed him up. His managing tenure here ended poorly, but the relationship between him and the team rebounded. While he loves doing the pre- and postgame show with co-host Chuck Garfien, Guillén is not always content doing content. He’s only 62 and loves the game.

His managing career looks better with every passing Sox season, but this honor will cement his legacy.

“The only reason I want them to do this is for when my grandkids walk into this ballpark and see grandpa’s name out there,” he said.

He said he hoped the team would do it before he died, obviously, but also before some of his friends and heroes pass. He wants Concecpión to make the late-summer ceremony and Aparicio, too. Reinsdorf just turned 90, and Guillén thinks of him as a second father. After all, think of how many jobs Reinsdorf has given him.

Guillén lives in the suburbs of Chicago now and has a beach house in Venezuela, but the Sox ballpark is his real home. He walks around the ballpark like he owns the place, hugging and laughing with everyone he sees. And now he’ll have his name and number on the wall.

“You look at the numbers up there, and they have better (offensive) numbers than I have,” he said. “They have better careers than I have. But any of those numbers up there, they can’t love the White Sox the way I did.”

For the Sox to show him that love back, well, it’s enough to make a man cry.

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