George Steinbrenner's gunslinging days are history.  When it comes to firing managers he's gone from being the horrific glowing Hound of Baskerville, to a toothless yard dog sitting on a porch watching a cat parade with one eye open and one eye shut.

Joe Torre, at last check, is still employed as manager of the once majestic Yankees.  The deck chairs are sliding off into the ocean and it's a matter of time before the old gal rises up out of the water, takes a look around, and plunges into the churning foam of the American League East.  

So why not at least fire a rocket (or Torre) and hope for rescue? 

The answer is simple.  The Yankees never won because of Joe Torre, and won't win by firing him.  It has been Torre's blessing and curse to manage the equivalent of NASCAR's Roush Racing.  The money is there, the team is there, winning is a given.  There is no substitute for victory, no excuse for losing.

For years pundits have described in awed tones what a great manager Torre is.  If they are right, (and they aren't), then how do we explain his fifteen year record of 894 and 1003 with 1 playoff appearance as manager of the Mets, Braves, and Cardinals?  Did he suddenly wake up from a long slumber, put on a Yankee uniform and become a baseball version of Patton?  Did he spend his first night in New York at a Holiday Inn and suddenly the answers to questions of a thousand dreams filled his head?  Hardly.

Joe Torre is a nice guy.  The kind of guy you'd hire to be caretaker to your estate.  He won't drink the Sunday booze, won't chase the maid around your private chambers, and won't drive the Benz except to town to pick up your copy of Investors Business Daily.  He is Vanilla Joe, respected by the help and admired by an all too unquestioning press corp. 

Torre has been, in many ways, an ideal manager for a team of superstars with big egos and bigger paychecks.  When the stars and planets, and the Yankee budget, have properly aligned Torre has achieved great things.  This isn't one of those seasons.

This year GM Brian Cashman has handed Torre a toxic pitching staff full of bad arms and bad choices.  Nine different starters and 9 different relievers.  In April.  Meanwhile, Gary Sheffield and his productive bat are gone, and Bobby Abreu is a shadow of his former productive self. 

Doug Mientkiewicz would be an impressive play if the game was Scrabble, but is a pop gun at the plate.  Johnny Damon is an ego with an over rated baseball player attached to it, Melky Cabrera is melky at the plate, and Hideki Matsui is off to a slow start.  Joe Torre can't fix any of that, but neither would Joe Girardi or Don Mattingly.  The Yankees dealt themselves a bad hand and there is little to do for it but play it out.  

Along the way, whoever manages the Yankees needs to find five pitchers and stick with them.  He needs to cut the pitching staff down to 11 pitchers and stop treating every opposing batter like an exotic disease that requires a specialist to be brought in to deal with him.  And he needs to verbally place his shoe into the nether regions of the numerous overpaid prima donnas inhabiting the Yankee clubhouse.  Unfortunately, that tune is not in Torre's song book.

So Mr. Steinbrenner, if you're listening, fire Joe Torre.  Or don't fire Joe Torre.  It won't make a difference.  What you need most is a general manager with a vision and field manager with a mean streak and sharp baseball mind.  Right now you have neither.  Fire at will.