I'm not a big Steinbrenner fan, but then who is? The man has driven baseball salaries (and the cost of a ticket, hot dog, and parking space) through the roof. He has bought an annual playoff spot in the AL East with his largesse. And Steinbrenner is going to tear down "The House that Ruth Built" in 2008, leaving in its place a monument to his enormous ego.

Unlike most businessmen who go into sports "Big Stein" was never in it as a hobby. He believes you can take business principles of production and accountability, and adapt them to a world that is often shaped by a quarter inch break on a thrown baseball.

King George has demanded his own alternate reality. One in which his pep talks and intimidation count for something. That baseball doesn't work that way, has never worked that way, and will never work that way escapes the Bronx Bombers owner.

His money? That matters. It can bring Alex Rodriquez to New York, lure Roger Clemens from retirement, or bring forth Hideki Matsui from Japan. So, it's also a bug light that attracts the likes of Carl Pavano, Kyle Farnsworth, and Jaret Wright? Who cares? In production work there is wastage. The cost of doing business.

Which brings us to Joe Torre. A man who this week has enjoyed the unique experience of hearing his obituary read while still alive. Everywhere you turn some manager or player is talking about Torre's managerial skill, professionalism, and basic human decency.

To which I, like George Michael Steinbrenner the Third say, "so what?"

Take it as a given, and Steinbrenner does, $189,000,000 in payroll buys you a playoff spot. It stands to reason then, it his checkbook that gets New York to Round 1. If you claim credit for Torre, it has to be in where the team goes after the regular season. And, for the last three years, that has been nowhere.

Sometimes it seems Torre is like global warming. Everything is attributed to him. The team starts off 22-29? Ah, the wise Torre has guided the ship back from the rocks. There are never any fights in the clubhouse, any public outbursts, any backup catchers injecting heroin in some dank corner of the locker room. Why, that's good old Joe, steady at the helm. Of course, he's a great manager. Ask any of the players who lost in the first round for him the past three seasons.

The truth is that all those things, and none of them, are reality. Did Torre bring the team back from 22-29? Yes, but who was the jockey who lead them to a stumbling start out of the shoot? Are the players content? Yes, but so are some cows. And has that contentment bred post season success? No, it has not. Is Torre a competent manager and good human being? Yes, by all accounts he is a great guy, and there is no evidence of managerial incompetence on his part.

And there is the rub. How do you judge the impact of a manager?

I'll make an heretical statement. No, make that two. First off, you could take the $8 million the Yankees spent on Torre last season, spend $7 million on improving concessions and restroom facilities, and still have $1 million left over to pay a manager who could have guided the team to 94 wins and a quick exit from the playoffs. For the record, Willie Randolph got paid $750,000 to manage the Mets last season to comparable results.

What the heck, let's walk out on the ledge and jump. In November of 1961, a chimp named Enos flew on the Mercury MA-5 space ship into orbit. An New York Yankees manager, working with the mindless American League DH rule and a $189,000,000 payroll, is about as essential to the team's success as the chimp was to manned space flight.

The Manager of the Class A Winston-Salem Warthogs (yes, there is such a team) is Tim Blackwell. I submit that if you took Torre out of New York and replaced him with Blackwell, he would make almost the exact same in-game decisions as Torre or any other manager. So Joe Torre feels insulted at $5 million? Get me the number of Blackwell, and see if that chimp is still alive.

Am I exaggerating for effect? Naturally, this is a blog, not a scientific journal. But it doesn't take away from the central fact-managers rarely matter. Sometimes a mid-season change takes pressure off a team, sometimes players need a well administered kick to their lower regions, but most days a manager is background noise.

In the National League with the Braves, Mets, and Cardinals Torre's managerial record was 894-1043. It seems that, like the man in the Holiday Inn commercials, Joe Torre became a much smarter manager after sleeping next to George Steinbrenner's vault.

Someone, presumably Don Mattingly, will take up Torre's position for the odd $3 or $4 million and incentives. It won't make any difference, but it will save a few million and allow Steinbrenner to feel that he is making a difference. Just like in the old days when he drove Billy Martin nuts coming into the clubhouse giving pep talks nobody listened to.

As for Torre, a return to St. Louis if Tony LaRussa goes off to take Torre's place in New York is not out of the question. He will do a workman like job, be praised by the players, fawned over by the press and probably finish in third place.

George Steinbrenner is 77. He should be allowed a few pleasures in life, a few late 8th inning rallies recalling the bygone glories. If he wanted to be rid of Joe Torre, let him be rid of Torre. The show will go on.

Strap the next chimp in the rocket.