Sitting Is Never Pretty to Guillen

He is straddling the right-field line at Tempe Diablo Stadium, smiling, spreading his arms toward the green fields of his torment.

“People look at me like I am a monster,” he says.

He is greeting members of the opposing team, gripping hands, hugging tightly, squeezing the reputation.

“I am not a monster,” he says.

He is a left fielder, actually, a guy with a 300-foot arm and 30-homer bat.

But he also is a guy who has waved those arms in outrage and put that bat through a wall in anger.

He is not a monster, but when he is not in the lineup, his temper can swallow a clubhouse whole.

Meet Jose Guillen, Dark Angel?

“I want people to understand, I’m not that type of person,” he says. “People always say that I go around with a frown on my face, but look at me. Don’t you see the smile?”

The Angels see the smile. They are taking it as a promise.

That, and his six home runs and 15 runs batted in that rank him among the top 10 major leaguers in spring power.

“This guy has passion, he wants to play, I don’t see the issue,” says Manager Mike Scioscia, and the old catcher’s fingers aren’t even crossed.

Guillen was signed as a free agent this winter as the straight man in an outfield featuring Vladimir Guerrero and Garret Anderson. He has since stolen the show with his demeanor and delight.

Of course, he has yet to plant his rear on that hard little island where Scioscia sometimes conducts his own game of “Survivor,” that place known as the bench.

“I am so happy, I get a chance to play, thank you, thank you,” Guillen says. “This is when everybody finds out what type of player I am.”

In 12 pro seasons, wearing 15 uniforms for seven organizations, nobody has ever questioned him as a player.

The problem has always been when he didn’t play.

Although only 27, he brings to Anaheim an ancient reputation that defies both logic and the dictionary.

To him, benching is another word for insult.

“I want to play,” he says. “Why is that so wrong?”

The desire is not wrong. The verbal and physical destruction that come from that desire, there’s the rub.

Managers who have benched him have been called liars. Clubhouses where he has been benched have become distracted.

The even-tempered Angels tolerate this behavior as well as they tolerate a pebble in their cleats.

“Yes, we’ve discussed it with him,” Scioscia says.

Of course they have. Scioscia handles dissension as he once handled charging baserunners.

You want to spend some quality time with the manager? Pop off about playing time or strategy, and your appointment has been made.

Scioscia deals with such things instantly, directly, which means if Guillen decides to criticize him the way he has publicly criticized nearly all of his managers, he should save himself time and do his interviews from the boss’ couch.

“Players vent in many different ways,” Scioscia says. “With understanding, problems can be minimized.”

Here’s what Guillen understands:

“I get benched, I get no explanation, I get mad. I don’t know why that is so bad. Tell me what you are doing to me. Tell me the truth.”

The truth is, when he was rushed to the big leagues in Pittsburgh at 20 -- the next Roberto Clemente! -- he was too young and his father was dying of cancer and he never found his feet.

“You have to understand, he was really immature then, he never should have been brought to the big leagues that fast, and it showed,” says Jim Bowden, then-general manager of the Cincinnati Reds who has also felt Guillen’s wrath.

Yet the truth is also that ensuing rides in Tampa Bay and Arizona should have been easier, but also were filled with miscommunications that no longer seemed coincidental.

“Everywhere I go, I had a bad reputation,” says Guillen, the master of both the inside fastball and blatant understatement.

In Cincinnati last season, Bowden said Guillen finally found himself as a hitter.

Just in time to lose his temper again.

One night, then-manager Bob Boone told him he was playing the next day. Yet about an hour before that game, he was told he was not in the lineup. According to Guillen, he was told that the change was ordered from the front office.

He was so angry, he grabbed some bats and pounded them through a clubhouse wall, to the horror of reporters and amusement of teammates.

“How would you feel, getting taken out of the lineup so close to the game?” he asks. “I was upset. Shouldn’t I be upset? I should not have used the bats, I understand, but I was upset.”

Yet, finally, he was producing, 23 home runs in only 315 at-bats before being traded to Oakland for the Athletics’ stretch drive.

Once there, for the first time, his clubhouse passion emerged on the field, as he played hard the final weeks with a broken hand, even batting .455 against the Boston Red Sox in the division series.

“I went in for surgery and the doctors said that I could have damaged a nerve in my hand and ended my career,” he recalls. “But I was willing to do that to keep playing.”

When looking for another hitter this winter, the Angels focused on this willingness.

Other teams couldn’t get past the whines.

“I have a bad reputation and it hurt me in free agency,” Guillen says. “Lots of teams said, ‘Oh man, I don’t want him, he’s a troublemaker.’ ”

Rather uncharacteristically, the Angels took a chance on him, spending $6 million over two seasons for the privilege of penciling in a legitimate power hitter in the sixth spot in the lineup.

Here’s hoping Scioscia has found a good hiding place for the eraser.

*

Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke