Jimmy Rollins by the numbers:
- Baseball-Reference.com for Jimmy Pop
- Fangraphs.com for J-Stroll
- My 2012 season preview of Jimmy Rollins, including this gem: "If he can stay on the field for 140 games [156 games; check], play good defense [Gold Glove; check], and get on base at a clip of .320 in the shortstop role [OBP: .316; check-ish], the Phillies will get a lot of value for their $11 million dollars this year [checkmate]..."
Since a statistical-minded and formal evaluation of Jimmy Rollins' season can be found in the comments of this article, it didn't seem to make sense to pile on with a "beating a dead horse" article of 1,500 words where I conclude: "Rollins sucked early on, then he was awesome, and he out-earned his contract again." A different take was called for.
Additionally, the Phillies' 2012 season was something out of an opium-induced nightmarish vision. Were laudanum still widely available, many of us likely would have sought refuge in its velvety embrace to deaden the pain we felt in our souls. Fortunately, it is no longer casually available from the corner druggist, and we are left to imagine instead what it must have been like by piggy-backing on those who experienced the madness in the past.
Lately, I've been in the throes of 1980's nostalgia, and this dovetailed nicely with my need for convenient access to the works of a 19th century opium fiend. Cue it and read along, imagining J-Roll with his headphones on while Amaro blah, blah, blahs at him during the exit interview that you know J-Roll isn't going to pay any attention to. Guaranteed money and ten and five, yo.
The Rime of the Ancient Jimmy Pop
Hear the rime of the ancient Jimmy Pop
See his eye as he stops one of three
Mesmerises one of the ballpark guests
Stay here and listen to the nightmares of the Lee.
And the playoffs play on, as the Giants pass by
Caught by his spell and the Jimmy Pop tells his tale...
Driven south to the land of no snow and ice
To a place where nobody's been
Through the snow fog flies on the albatross
Hailed in god's name, hoping good luck it brings.
And the ship sails on, back to the north
Through the fog and ice and the albatross follows on.
Then Jimmy Pop kills the bird of good omen 
His teammates cry against what he's done 
But when the fog clears, they justify him
And make themselves a part of the crime.
Sailing on and on and north across the sea(son)
Sailing on and on and north 'til all is calm.
The albatross begins with its vengeance
A terrible curse a thirst has begun
His manager blames bad luck on the Jimmy Pop
About his neck, the dead bird is hung.
And the curse goes on and on for Lee
And the curse goes on and on for them and me.
'Day after day, day after day,
we stuck, nor breath nor motion
As idle as a painted ship
Water, water everywhere and
all the boards did shrink
Water, water everywhere
nor any drop to drink.'
There calls the Jimmy Pop
There comes a ship over the line
But how can she sail with
no wind in her sails and no tide.
See... onward she comes
Onward she nears out of the sun
See, she has no crew
She has no life, wait but here's two.
Death and she life in death,
They throw their dice for the crew
and he belongs to her now.
Then... crew one by one
They drop down dead, two hundred men
She... she, life in death.
She lets him live, her chosen one.
'One after one by the star dogged moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang
And cursed me with his eye
Four times fifty living men
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.'
The curse it lives on in their eyes
The Jimmy Pop he wished he'd die
Along with the sea creatures 
But they lived on, so did he.
And by the light of the moon
He prays for their beauty not doom
With heart he blesses them
God's creatures all of them too. 
Then the spell starts to break
Bodies lifted by good spirits
None of them speak and they're lifeless in their eyes
And revenge is still sought, penance starts again
Cast into a trance and the nightmare carries on.
Now the curse is finally lifted 
And the Jimmy Pop sights his home
Spirits go from the long dead bodies
Form their own light and the Jimmy Pop's left alone.
And then a boat came sailing towards him
It was a joy he could not believe
The pilot's boat, his son and the hermit,
Penance of life will fall onto him.
And the ship sinks like lead into the sea
And the hermit shrieves the Phillies of their sins.
The Jimmy Pop's bound to tell of his story
To tell this tale wherever he goes
To teach god's word by his own example
 Poetic license. Just roll with it.
 Actually, they didn't. The narrative sort of breaks down here. Coleridge did lots of drugs, and I blame him for losing the plot completely here, or at least not anticipating that someone would use his art as a vehicle for a Jimmy Rollins piece nearly a hundred years later.
 Just because.
 Do not search for "cody f...... ross" with safesearch=off on images. Just don't. Google doesn't limit that to "just baseball."
 44 - 31, post-ASB, or a 95 win pace.