Even before analytics baseball has always been a numbers game. Not the kind that requires spreadsheets and algorithms, but the kind where a handful of digits become shorthand for a life’s work. Say 60 or 714 and the mind drifts automatically to immortality. Mention 56, .406, or 511 and you don’t even need to attach the names. Numbers in this sport have a way of sticking to players like pine tar. Some careers are defined by one unforgettable line on a stat sheet. For Elroy “Ro
