"This is the worst summer I've had because I was too soft," said Guillen. "I was kind of worried about what people were going to say about me. I could care less what people say as long as I win."
Yeah, it's been a shame seeing Ozzie keeping it all bottled up inside. It's always the same with those strong, silent types, playing it close to the vest, keeping that stiff upper lip until, one day, all of those suppressed feelings come flooding out in words or deeds that will soon be regretted. I mean, just look at the tragic repression and clipped words of this tortured soul, obviously in anguish over what people will think about him:
Oh, shut the [deleted] up!" Guillen barked. "I know you like A.J. but there's no reason for you to make lineups and [deleted]."
"I don't care what A.J. thinks," Guillen said. "I make the best lineup. I want to find out what Toby Hall can do for this ballclub, find out right away how we are going to use him. I never said A.J. was in a platoon."
"Believe me, I'm tired of you guys and this bull[deleted] every god[deleted] day."
North cut Guillen off: "Hey, Ozzie, clean up your mouth. Clean up your damn mouth when you're talking on the radio and talking to me. Have a little respect, all right? Don't go talking to me like you're talking down to somebody."
"Don't you ever talk down to me. Don't ever talk to me like I'm some ... Yeah, you better hang up the damn phone."
Thank God he's seen the error of his ways and plans to let loose going forward. In other news, if you're looking for any White Sox beat writers, they're easy to spot: they're the ones with mile-wide smiles wearing industrial-strength flak jackets.