Jimmy Rollins: You are on notice

Last week, Jimmy Rollins announced he was going to use some new-fangled technology to attempt to break my record for the longest home run ever recorded.

But just before he was going to try it, he backed out, claiming some injury.

Dear readers, do not believe that for one second. I might be dead, but I still have some juice.

Here's what I did. First, I visited Jimmy in his dream, as we are allowed to do. But I was sneaky. I didn't visit him as myself, because that would be too obvious and Jimmy might get suspicious. Instead, I visited him as a florescent green dolphin wearing a Yankees cap. We were standing there on the Phillies' practice field and I flapped my flippers and shouted, "Ooh ooh ooh" over and over until I got his attention. In the dream, he turned, slipped on a bat, and strained his calf muscle. The hook was baited.

Next, I visited the dream of one of the clubhouse boys, little Timmy Dugan. This time, I appeared as a giant purple dinosaur, figuring he would have never seen one of those. I convinced him that placing a bat on the ground near Jimmy Rollins the next day would result in untold glory and fame for little Timmy. And also that I would hit a home run for him the next day because I love kids, and kids love me, and we're a happy family. Then I gave him a great big hug and a kiss from me to him, and then he said he loved me too. Then, because we were in Philadelphia, I threw up on him.

All that was Sunday night. Monday, before the home opener, Jimmy strained his calf during warmups. Was it caused by a stray bat laying on the ground? I'm not tellling, wink wink.

Bottom line: My record lives on. Let this be a warning to anybody else who dares to threaten something that belongs to me.