Former MVP Jimmy Rollins was benched Thursday for his poor decision making skills, resulting in his late arrival to Shea Stadium. The team was staying in a Manhattan hotel, and Rollins decided to try and beat the last bus to Flushing, figuring he could outmaneuver the big, slow team bus in New York traffic. Unfortunately, Rollins, who reportedly left 10 minutes after the bus, arrived 30 minutes later than the bus, and just an hour prior to game time.

Rollins has caught a lot of grief for this tardiness gaffe, but Philly fans owe it to J-Roll to take a closer look at his decision-making process.

First, we must consider what exactly happens on these team buses. First hand experience dictates that when one steps onto a bus headed to a ballpark, you are bound to step off that bus drunk. This commentator’s investigation reveals this to be of a 99% certitude, excluding the one time I drove the bus myself and was therefore only somewhat buzzed. So in actuality, Rollins was doing the team a favor by suffering through traffic in order to stay sober enough to play ball, unlike the rest of the slumping Phillies, who clearly are playing drunk.

Second, we cannot question his assumption that he could beat the bus to the stadium. Buses are slow and cumbersome. I once missed the short bus in 9^th grade and gave chase on my Power Wheels. I almost beat it, except the jerk bus driver kept popping out that pesky stop sign on the side every time I tried to pass it. However, assuming the team spent the extra $100 to get a transit bus, the team bus was not equipped with said stop sign, and therefore Rollins had no reason to suspect that he could not get past them. Only a fool would think that a bus could make better time, especially since it unlikely that Sandra Bullock or Keanu Reeves stepped out of the unemployment line long enough to careen the bus at 50 mph down the desolate NYC roadways and into the façade of Citi Field.

Third, we are clearly not paying Jimmy enough money. Making a mere pittance this year ($8,000,000), Rollins could hardly afford the Jet-powered Maybach he so desperately wants. Is it his fault that he had to set off to the stadium in a 1972 AMC Gremlin? A resounding no. The front office should open up the coin purse a bit, and either increase his meager wages, or just buy him a car designed for getting ballplayers to the stadium in time. A bio-fueled flying DeLorean or a George Jetson whip (both of which are somewhat traffic-proof. . .for now) should do just fine.

Rollins is a smart kid, as all baseball players are. He knows how much his time is worth, and if he tells us that, according to his careful cost-benefit analysis, ten extra minutes of Wii-playing or do-rag application adds more value than listening to Charlie Manuel stutter in the clubhouse, we are obligated to believe him.

More importantly, we must examine the genius of benching your starting shortstop because he hit traffic and was late (for a second time!!!!). Very few people question the mental acuity of Charlie Manuel, but this decision makes me think that Charlie is not too bright. If Rollins decides that he wants to glide down to the batters box on the back of a bald eagle with red and grey smoke spewing from his cleats just as Oliver Perez is delivering his first pitch, you just nod and say “yessuh!” These are the Big Leagues, Charlie, and those were the Mets. Kudos to Eric Brunlett for his big day at the plate, but if I wanted to watch Snarf from the Thundercats play baseball, I would have simply reached under my pillow and made it happen.

Charlie has two rules: Be on time and Hustle. I get “Hustle” and Rollins was rightfully criticized for his lackadaisical play last month. But shouldn’t “Be on time” be more of a suggestion, kind of like “don’t call me anymore” or “¡Cuidado: Piso Mojado!” Oh Well, Charlie. Oh Well.