The animated Chicago White Sox manager on Fidel Castro, battle scars, and marrying young.

interviewed by Rick Telander

What one thing should every man know about women?
The woman is smarter than the man. No doubt about it. One hundred thousand percent smarter. Guys go by instinct, like idiots, animals. Women never do anything without thinking about it. Your wife could be cheating, and you won’t even know about it. But you just go out with your friends and your wife knows right away.

Who’s the toughest man you know?
Fidel Castro. He’s a bullshit dictator and every-body’s against him, and he still survives, has power. Still has a country behind him. Everywhere he goes they roll out the red carpet.
I don’t admire his philosophy. I admire him.

Do you have a scar that tells a story?
Two. I have a scar here [points to the right side of his chin], five stitches. I was spiked by George Bell in a game. Slides into second base, cleats high. That’s baseball. I have a scar here [lifts his upper lip], 10 stitches. When I was a little kid, the ball hit me right in the mouth, and Luis Aparicio’s uncle Ernesto said, “You gonna be a hell of a shortstop. Other kids always turn — it hits them in ear, side of face. You look right at it.’’

How do you make your favorite drink?
Easy. You get scotch, you find a coconut tree, cut a coconut open with a machete, and pour coconut water into the scotch.

What’s your biggest regret?
Getting married so young. I didn’t know how much responsibility you have when you get married. I had Ozzie Jr. right away, and I was still a kid myself. I didn’t know what to do or what I wanted. I was fucking up, but, thank God, it worked out. I got a good wife and family. But to get married when you’re 19? Not a good idea.

What’s your favorite place on Earth?
In the dirt. I like green grass, I do. But I spend my life in the dirt.

What’s the best advice you ever received?
Be yourself. When I was a bench coach for Florida, I don’t know if people understood the kind of person I was. Now it’s different. I am the face of a ball club, and people have to read me. Jack McKeon, who was the Marlins manager, told me, “You’re not going to be happy and make people happy unless you are yourself.”

Do you ever wish you were somebody else?
Yes, Ron Jeremy. No, no — a bullfighter. Morenito de Maracay. A great Venezuelan bullfighter. My wife says, “Ozzie, you would last two seconds. You would be in the ring waving to everybody in the stands, smiling, and the bull would have you on his horns.”

Where’s the strangest place you ever fell asleep?
In the 2003 World Series in Miami. Second game, before the national anthem, everybody was all pumped up and running around the clubhouse, and I was sleeping on the couch. A.J. Burnett, I think it was, took a photo of me with the clock behind me, just before the game. Ten minutes to go.

What’s your nickname?
Paio. I couldn’t say “Papa” as a kid, so I called my daddy Paio. So now everybody in my family calls me Paio. You can call me anything from the stands — Ozzie, Oswaldo, anything — but you call me Paio, my head will turn, because I know somebody knows me.

Any tattoos you regret?
No. I don’t have, like, butterflies. I have my wife’s name here [lifts shirt to show left shoulder]. I got it in Japanese, just in case. Got my kids’ names here [pushes down sock to show left ankle]. When you get a tattoo it better mean something to you.

What was your first car?
This will shock you. A BMW. I was pimp! I was playing my first year in the big leagues, 1985. I was 21. I never had even driven a car in my life, ever, and I buy a BMW. You know why? I went to camp with the White Sox, always had to wait for guys to give me a ride to the ballpark. I work all my life to get what I want, and I wanted that.

What’s the best cure for a hangover?
A lot of people say drink water. But water makes the alcohol expand quicker. The best cure is to stay drunk.

What one skill would you like to master?
I wish my English were richer. I wish I had more words to work with. I wish I had a better education, read more books. I went to eighth grade. Street smarts is something I have. But not books. It’s too late now.

—

Guillén, 44, played in the majors for 16 years, until 2000. In 2005 he became the only Latin America–born manager to lead a team to a World Series title.