Yesterday, Don Mattingly received his official interview with the Yankees brass in Tampa. Like one of those internally posted positions at your company that you have to interview for even though you’ve worked there for a decade and everyone knows you well, there are appearances to be kept up, commissioner’s mandates on fair hiring practices to satisfy, and local catering companies that need subsidization. It’s hard to imagine a job opening in which interviews would be less relevant, because unless Mattingly spills his coffee in the Old Elephant’s lap, he seems like a shoo-in. The way the Yankees have acted lately, it is less than likely that it has even occurred to them to ask why.

If the players’ familiarity with Mattingly helps some of the team’s fence-sitting free agents sign, that’s something. If his popularity with the fans help dispel the negative aura that has enveloped the team after last week’s maladroit parting of the ways, that’s something too. But a manager is more than a public relations ploy. That’s why, back in the day, when the Dodgers were suffering from the effects of the Great Depression, they hired Babe Ruth as a coach, not a manager. The blimpish Babe was there to generate extra revenue by taking batting practice. Once the game started, it was put in the hands of the professionals.

The Yankees are entering a delicate phase of a rebuilding program that has been ongoing, or more accurately on hold, since the starting rotation quit en masse after the 2003 World Series. They will be breaking in several new or relatively new pitchers next season, and in coming seasons they also will have to break in some younger position players. As a former star, Mattingly has the verdict of history against him when it comes to the care and nurturing of youngsters. Many great players seem to have had a hard time remembering that most of their charges aren’t as good as they once were. Ty Cobb, Rogers Hornsby, and Ted Williams epitomized this failing.

Mattingly seems to lack the arrogance of a Hornsby, so perhaps he’ll incline toward patience the next time Jason Giambi strikes out with the bags full or Melky Cabrera can’t remember that falling toward first base isn’t as fast as running through it. Still, there is so much more that is not known about Mattingly as a manager, at least not publically. In four seasons of managing, has anyone with the Yankees asked the job seeker formerly known as Donnie Baseball how he feels about:

One-run strategies: Every year there’s at least one manager in the big leagues who doesn’t realize that it’s 2007, not 1912, and that the bunt and the stolen base are situational tools that quickly lead to diminishing returns if over-employed. If the new manager channels Gene Mauch instead of Earl Weaver, there are going to be a lot of frustrating nights next year.

Platooning: Even today, when every players’ lefty-righty splits are easily available on the Internet, some managers resist platooning. Mattingly was the unusual lefty who didn’t require protection from left-handed pitchers. This won’t be the case with many of his players. The Yankees will need to know if Mattingly will protect the team from their weaknesses.

Engorged Bullpen Syndrome (EBS): When Mattingly played, teams carried only five relievers. Now they carry seven or eight. This deprives a manager of tactical options by starving his bench. Some managers are so complacent that they don’t notice they can’t pinch-hit, pinch-run, or make defensive substitutions. In his press conference yesterday, Mattingly said that Billy Martin was among his managerial influences. If so, he’ll want to have room to maneuver.

EBS II: In recent years, managers have gotten in the habit of losing games with their third-best lefty instead of their best righty. Joe Torre often succumbed to this obviously counterproductive strategy, sometimes saving Mariano Rivera to protect leads the Yankees would never get. Managing a bullpen is difficult, and this is one area in which Mattingly’s lack of experience might show.

Pitch counts: The 140-pitch outing is just about extinct — no pitcher threw more than 130 pitches in a game this year. Yet, repeated pitch counts of more than 100 can have a deleterious effect on a pitcher; just look at the way Daisuke Matsuzaka wore down. This is doubly true for a young pitcher.

Young players: Some managers just don’t like young players, and even good prospects tend to go bust once entrusted to their care. The entire group of young players who became major league regulars under Dusty Baker could hold their class reunion inside a hermit crab’s outhouse.

Mattingly might have been quizzed on any or none of these subjects, but we can be sure that he was asked his opinion on a topic that no other managerial candidate in history has had to consider:

“Donnie, if a big cloud of bugs swoops down on your team during a playoff game, what are you going to do about it?”

Mr. Goldman writes the Pinstriped Bible for yesnetwork.com.