Guillen, Cora: More Than Just Teammates : American League: The shortstop, when he needed a boost, got it from the second baseman.

Ozzie Guillen dragged himself out of bed each winter morning, bundled himself in the heaviest clothing he owns, and drove in the freezing temperatures to Comiskey Park.

It was a lonely, agonizing time, particularly since there was no guarantee he would ever play baseball again. He was the All-Star shortstop of the Chicago White Sox, but with torn anterior cruciate and medial collateral ligaments in his right knee, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was wasting his time.

His pride would not permit him to come back as just another shortstop. He couldn’t stand the thought of mediocrity. He told the White Sox trainers that if he were going to lose most of his mobility and range, just forget this whole thing.

But during those painful rehab sessions, the telephone would often ring. It was his best friend, second baseman Joey Cora, calling from Puerto Rico. Cora demanded that Guillen maintain his rigorous therapy.

“I told him that I want to go to the World Series and I wasn’t going without him,” Cora said. “I told him to come back strong, because I plan on playing a lot, and we’re going to be in this together.

“Believe me, I didn’t ever want to be without him again.”

It’s this bond, this unabashed love affair with baseball, that makes their predicament seem rather trivial.

If Guillen and Cora--the heart of the White Sox infield--can overcome their ordeals, why should facing Toronto Blue Jay starter Dave Stewart even faze them?

The White Sox, trailing in this best-of-seven American League playoff series, 3-2, must defeat Stewart and the Blue Jays tonight at Comiskey Park to keep their World Series aspirations alive. Stewart, 7-0 with a 1.99 earned-run average, has never been on the losing team in nine playoff starts.

“We know he’s good,” Guillen said. “And we respect him. But be intimidated? Uh-uh. Believe me, me and Joey have been through too much together to be intimidated by anybody. We’re two tough hombres.”

Do you know anyone whose off-season hobby is bullfighting? Guillen’s is.

Or how about just plain fighting? The 5-foot-8 Cora ran through the clubhouse, up the dugout steps and dove into the middle of a brawl this season against the Texas Rangers.

“I love bullfighting, it’s my biggest hobby,” Guillen said. “I tell you, fighting a bull is harder than baseball. In baseball, you’ve got two human beings who can think. In bullfighting, the bull goes by reaction.”

Is he any good?

“I think I’m good,” said Guillen, 5 feet 11, 164 pounds. “The real guys think I stink. Oh well, I can’t do it anymore, anyway, because of my knee. It’s not like I can come to spring training and say, ‘I can’t play because I got hurting fighting a bull.’ ”

Cora, at 155 pounds, may be just as tough as Guillen. He started spring training third on the depth chart. By opening day, he was the starting second baseman after beating out Steve Sax and Craig Grebeck.

“He’s the best second baseman I’ve ever played with,” Guillen said. “He’s the most underrated player on this team. What people forget is how Joey always got on base and moved the runners over for Frank (Thomas). You think Frank gets 128 RBIs without Joey? Come on, no way.

“I tell Frank that the MVP trophy he gets, he should cut half of it and give it to Joey. Hey, Joey might be small, but to me, he’s the biggest guy on this team. Believe me, nobody’s tougher.”

Cora never has faced a bull in his life, and hasn’t had to play on an artificial hip, as has teammate Bo Jackson, nor recover from a knee injury as severe as Guillen’s, but he certainly has had his moments.

He once found himself surrounded by a dozen angry fans in San Antonio after a double-A game. They threatened him, but Cora refused to back down. Before he knew it, he felt a knife rip into his stomach, cutting away part of his small intestine. Doctors told San Diego Padre officials that if the knife wound had been two inches lower, Cora would have been killed.

“I still remember getting a call at 9:30 that night,” said Tom Romenesko, former Padre farm director. “They told me, ‘Joey’s on the operating table. It’s touch and go. We don’t know if he’s going to make it.’ ”

Cora recovered in time to play that winter in the Puerto Rican League, and was the Padres’ starting second baseman on opening day in 1987. But he spent the season being berated and humiliated by Manager Larry Bowa, and was never given another chance, thanks to the rise of a prospect named Roberto Alomar.

Cora and outfielder Warren Newson were traded on March 31, 1991, to the White Sox, and Cora met a free spirit from Venezuela. His name was Ozzie Guillen.

“Ozzie Guillen is the reason I’m here today,” Cora said, “It’s that simple. He was always there for me. I went through a lot of bad times, and there were times I wondered if I’d make it, but Ozzie always reassured me. It was like he knew when I needed that call.

“That’s why I wanted to make sure I was there for him last season. I knew it was tough for him. He hated not playing because he loves the game so much.

“That’s why I told him over the winter, ‘You get yourself right, I’ll do everything I can to win a job, and let’s go to the World Series.’

“My God, look how close we are.”

It’s almost as if the two soulmates can’t believe this is happening. They are two victories away from being in the World Series themselves, and could be facing the Philadelphia Phillies.

Cora not only would be having the opportunity to seek revenge against Bowa, who’s a Phillie coach, but Guillen would be reunited with an old roommate during his minor league days, John Kruk.

“Can you believe it?” Guillen said. “The guy that taught me English was John Kruk. He also taught me how to drink beer. The guy is crazy, but he’s got one of the biggest hearts I know.”

Yet, for their dreams to be realized, the White Sox must win two more games, including the one tonight against Stewart.

“Nothing can spoil this,” Guillen said. “Last year at this time, this place was empty. Nobody was around here. It was just me and the trainers.

“I’d put my uniform on, go out on the field, and it was so cold. I mean, real cold. But I remember (trainer) Herm (Schneider) kept telling me, ‘Get used to it. Don’t complain about the weather, because next year at this time you’ll be playing in the playoffs.’

“It’s a beautiful thing.”