2022 LSU Gumbo - Book - Page 64
Before the game, Chris Guillot made his rounds with everyone
he has spent so much time with over his years. He smiled, shook
hands, and chatted with so many of the loyal LSU fans he has
come to know so well.
Known by most as “The Sign Guy” or “The guy who yells”,
Guillot has been leading the iconic “Geaux…Tigers…” cheers
at Alex Box since 1986. He’s gotten to know hundreds of fans,
players, and even umpires. He’s seen four coaches come through
the university, an engagement to his wife in the Box, a newborn
son he is more proud of than anything, and thousands of Tiger
baseball games and moments both at home and on the road.
He has invested hours upon hours of time into this game that
he loves so much. For anyone familiar with the program, the sign,
with “GEAUX” spelled out in big purple capital letters on a gold
background, is as synonymous with the team and its fans as the
purple and gold colors themselves.
When LSU is making a rally at the plate, Guillot stands and
unleashes the sign and his trademark yell of the five letter word
LSU fans know how to respond to with only one correct answer.
The chant fills the stadium and breathes life into the park.
Pitchers start to feel the pressure, batters plug in to the energy,
and the fans relentlessly give everything they have to pull their
Tigers back into the game.
For Guillot, he just sees himself as a steward to the fanbase.
As a friend to all, he loves the fanbase and his part in it. When
I first asked him if he would be willing to talk to me, I told
him how much of an impact he’s had on my love for the game.
Immediately, he shook his head and smiled at me, assuring me
that it was about the fans, not him, that were making the impact.
“I hate the word ‘I’,” Guillot said. “I love the word ‘we’.”
That doesn’t mean he’s not aware of his responsibility as
one of the most invested fans at the games. He’s been around
the game long enough to understand when the right moment
is to infuse the team with the crowd’s energy. He often mixes
in chants of “L-S-U” and “Here we go, Tigers, here we go.” The
energy at the stadium will often go as he goes.
“Other people yell, and not everybody yells back,” Guillot said
with a humble look. “I yell, and everybody yells.”
Guillot grew up in Donaldsonville, LA, a 45-minute drive
from LSU’s campus, but right along the Mississippi River just
like the school he adores. With his brother and cousins, he grew
up playing baseball just like most American kids his age. Some
of his family went on to play professionally, but he just stayed
in Louisiana, using his charismatic personality to succeed as a
chemical salesman.
“It’s in my blood,” Guillot said. “My grandpa, he died when
my mom was a young kid. He was a big baseball fan. He glued
himself to the radio. It’s in my blood.”
Guillot didn’t always have his patented tickets down the third
base line where he sits for every LSU home game. It took his
passion for the game and a decent bit of luck while he was just
getting out of college.
“It was a DA out of St. Charles, and I was working behind the
counter in a bar in Donaldsonville, my family restaurant,” Guillot said.
The lawyer could see there was something different about
Guillot. He had a love for the game that was unrivaled by others
his age. That wasn’t something that just developed overnight. It
was a product of his environment.
“He goes ‘Hold one second,’” Guillot said. “He walked over to
his car, and he gave me the family package. It was four tickets,
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two parents and two children. I just used it for one ticket. I would
get there, and at the time, there were not reserved seats for the
gold section in the old Box. I’d get there early and sit in the first
row, because I didn’t want to aggravate him.”
And it sprouted from there. Guillot watched the LSU program
grow before his very eyes just a few feet in front of him. Skip
Bertman took the reins of the program in 1984, just in time for
Guillot to see him build the team up to the legendary status
it has today. Bertman rattled off five national championships
in 1990s, Smoke Laval took over the team shortly after, and
then Paul Mainieri got his turn and won LSU’s sixth national
championship following him in 2009.
And Guillot has been there to see it all, all the way into the
next heir to the college baseball throne in Jay Johnson. He told
me he’s learned something unique from each one of them.
“For Skip, it was ‘never give up’,” Guillot said. “For Smoke it
was ‘teach me, show me.’ For Paul, ‘be persistent.’ And for Jay, it’s
about attention to details and togetherness. ‘We.’”
As the team matured, so did Guillot. He got his career started,
got his roots established in the state he was raised in, and even
got engaged. In the old Box. His two favorite moments that
he’s seen in the hallowed stadium over the years? That day of
his engagement, and getting to carrying his newborn son into
the stadium for the first time with him. It speaks to Guillot the
person that at the end of the day, the memories of the baseball
itself, with the countless hours he has spent watching the game
he adores, get swept away when it comes to his family. That’s
what got him into the game in the first place, and it’s what’s
made those moments so special for him and millions of other
baseball fans who have dedicated so much energy into the game.
Guillot is incredibly proud of his son. He recently graduated
from high school and received commissions from the three
major service academies in Army, Navy, and Air Force. He’ll be
attending West Point, and he is the joy of Guillot’s life.
That’s the real beauty of Guillot’s story, a manifestation
of the pride he has in what he does and the people dear to
him in his life. He is a perfect example of what baseball, and
truthfully sports, have done for so many families: bring them
closer together through the shared experience of investing in
something that is bigger than themselves. The fanbase Guillot
is a part of is another family he’s honored to be a member of. I
asked him if there was one word he could use to describe LSU
baseball fans. “Passionate,” he said.
But LSU fans are not strictly passionate for winning. They are
rather fervent defenders of the game, so that they can preserve
what it does for them and more importantly, the individuals on
the field.
“The difference in me, the coaches, the fans, the friendships
made with the players,” Guillot said. “It’s just a game.”
Guillot speaks for everyone who visits the Box when he
states how appreciative the fans are to have these experiences,
relationships, and memories that the players give them every
season.
“What I love about our fans and our athletic director is that
they always put the players and the university first,” Guillot said.
This story isn’t really about Chris Guillot. Instead, it’s about
what baseball has done for people like Guillot all over the world,
not just Louisiana or this country. It’s no wonder he walks around
the stadium with a smile before each game.