On most game nights at U.S. Cellular Field, the White Sox postgame clubhouse looks like a preschool playground.
A playground supervised — in the loosest sense of the word — by a kid at heart in grown-up’s clothing.
The supposed adult would be Ozzie Guillen, the White Sox manager whose heart melts like a fudgesicle in summer when he sees players’ children waiting outside the home clubhouse.
It is a side of Guillen the public never sees. Or hears.
Moments after throwing swear words in the media room at the Cell, Guillen walks down a hallway and emits a shrill whistle, and the kids come running to his arms, to be toted or led to their fathers inside.
It is the fastest personality switch in sports.
“I can be very very mad. I can be on fire, and I see (Mark) Buehrle’s kids and I see (Alex) Rios’ kid and it’s over with,” Guillen says. “They lighten up the clubhouse and (put it) in a better mood.”
Some managers begrudgingly allow children in the clubhouse. Guillen heartily endorses it.
“As soon as he whistles, Braden goes running over to him,” Buehrle said of his son. “I think it’s awesome. (Guillen) just has a special bond with kids.
“He has always done it, win or lose. We get our butts kicked and he’s like, I don’t care, they’re allowed in the clubhouse no matter what. The kids are happy, they don’t know what went on in the game. They just want candy or a hot dog. It’s awesome.”
The kids have fairly free rein, including the hot tub/pool area in the training room.
“I don’t even know if (Guillen) knows what goes on in there half the time,” Buehrle says with a laugh.
A week ago Sunday, after the Sox had just lost a disappointing game to the Tigers and lost pitcher Jake Peavy to an injury, Guillen carried 4-year-old Brody Dunn in to see his father, who had just struck out three times and was lustily booed.
“C’mon, let’s get in the hot tub,” Guillen said as they approached Dunn’s locker. “And make sure you put your dad in there and drown (him).”
It was an effort by Guillen to lighten Adam Dunn’s mood.
“Sometimes you don’t want them in here, and he brings them in anyhow,” Dunn said. “It helps you forget about the bad ones quicker and forget about the good ones too. The kids don’t care. All they know is they want to go in the hot tub.
“That’s one thing, among other things, that’s really, really different about what Ozzie is. He loves the family and having them around. Win or lose, it’s not their fault. He’s awesome with kids.”
Guillen says with a laugh: “I like the kids more than I like their (fathers).”
While some managers would rather turn over the food spread in a fit of rage, Guillen turns over the food spread to the kids.
“Since the first day he came, he was adamant that kids were always going to be welcome,” says hitting coach Greg Walker, also a former teammate. “He truly loves kids, and they love him.
“I’ve never been around a manager that is so adamant that no matter how ugly things were (during a game), the kids were always welcome.”
“He loves my kids, and my kids love him,” catcher A.J. Pierzynski said. “They look forward to seeing him all the time. They’ve been around him, that’s all they know.
“It’s great, especially for me having two young kids and not getting to see them that much. Having the ability to bring them in the clubhouse, it’s special.”
And what about players who are single and don’t have children?
“I told the players, if you have any problem with the kids (being here), you will tell me first because I’m the one who (allows it),” Guillen said. “If one of the players has trouble with kids in the clubhouse after the game, then you’re going to have trouble with me. I see no reason why after the game kids can’t have fun with their parents.”
“I don’t mind,” said Juan Pierre, who has no children. “I don’t mind if they’re on the ceilings in here. It’s good for the kids to enjoy, and if you have a bad game, you see kids running around and you realize it’s just one game.”
dvandyck@tribune.com Twitter @davandyck




