PHILADELPHIA -- The boys in the bullpen started rising when Jonathan Broxton went 2-0 on Matt Stairs. "If he pitches around Stairs," someone yelled, "this game will belong to J-Roll."Somehow, somewhere in the reaches of Broxton's mind there was history, that moment last October when Stairs went yard off him to propel the Phillies to the world championship. Broxton throws 98 mph and doesn't have to think or look up some history. He's also human.Managers sometimes overload on information and turn it into a computer game. We do it ("Ozzie Smith has never hit a home run from the left side of the plate …," until he hit the game-winner in Game 5 of the '85 NLCS), and there are those among us who believe it is all about history and numbers and managers whom they can call dumb and dumber.But sometimes it's not black and white, or about probability. Sometimes it is about blood red and people. Ball four to Stairs. The whole bullpen started jumping around, and somehow they knew it would get to Jimmy Rollins.Then Broxton hit Carlos Ruiz and jammed Greg Dobbs, and with two outs the game came down to Rollins. "There are times," Charlie Manuel said after the game, "when matchups and stats and history don't matter. Sometimes it comes down to people."As Rollins strolled to the plate, Manuel caught the eye of his longtime friend Jim Thome in the Dodgers dugout. Charlie pointed to Rollins and nodded toward Thome. "I was telling him," said Manuel, "that this is our guy. Sure, J-Roll is a good low fastball hitter and Broxton is a great low fastball pitcher, but it's more than that. J-Roll lives for moments like this.""Broxton is great," Rollins said in the runway as he walked up to the clubhouse. "But I felt very comfortable there. I was very confident. I know what I'm here for."For three years, there's been something special about this team. Whether it's Aaron Rowand sacrificing his face to save a game or Shane Victorino crashing into catchers or Chase Utley denying anything about his hip right onto the operating table, these Phillies have played with an attitude, without fear of failure, without style points, and they've done it in the rain of last October, the freezing cold of Colorado, or the runaway truck going 100 known as Jonathan Broxton.They are the Broad Street Bullies Redux, the legitimate heirs to the legacy of Bobby Clarke and Paul Holmgren and those gutty, great Flyers teams of the '70s. Which is appropriate, with The Spectrum closing down at the end of this month, with Pearl Jam and their song "Dissident" echoing across the Betsy Ross Bridge.You can be certain that Charlie Manuel didn't have 11 pages of printouts on Rollins' history against Broxton or what he's done on a 1-1 fastball above 95 mph down in the zone. Anyone who managed with too many crib sheets wouldn't have a World Series ring with this team, because they skate on their own pond and make up their rules as they go along.Billy Beane understands. He played for Manuel in Triple-A in 1987. "Players love playing for him," says Beane. "If you listen to what he's saying, he's really smart, and players don't want to fail for him. He's a really good manager."When Manuel gestured to Thome, he knew everything about the matchup that he needed to know. "We had our guy up there," said Manuel. "In that situation, Jimmy Rollins is the guy we want hitting." Rollins jacked a rocket into the right-center field alley. The Phillies then got a break when, instead of caroming off the wall, the ball hit the chain-link fence and dropped straight down. "That," said one pitcher, "was worth six steps for Ruiz.""That is who Jimmy is," said Brad Lidge. "Not what." Who.