The main problem with Joe Torre as the manager of the Yankees was that he was much like the latter day “Star Trek.” In its overly corporatized late phase, “Star Trek” characters were as immutable as stone. Anything that happened in the first act of an episode would be corrected by the third. Captain Picard could be decapitated in the season premiere, but you couldn’t look forward to a year-long dramatic arc focusing on his new life as the Federation’s only officer with a negative hat size: By the third commercial, advanced medical science would allow him to grow a new head. No chances were ever taken with the characters, and nothing ever changed. Torre was only slightly more likely to follow through on an alteration of the status quo — a quality that might bite the Dodgers during the manager’s new Hollywood phase. It is inaccurate to state that Torre was indecisive when it came to building his teams, hesitating to replace a player until it was too late. Just the opposite was true. Torre never wanted to unseat a veteran, and he did whatever he could to avoid making a change. He was adamant in this policy. If he had the appearance of indecision, it wasn’t because he couldn’t make up his mind — but because he already had.

In 2000, second baseman Chuck Knoblauch had lost both bat and glove. His power completely disappeared, which was ironic because he seemed to be swinging for the fences more times than not, and he became impatient, a fatal quality in a leadoff man. Simultaneously, Knoblauch developed a mental block about throwing the ball to first base. He hurt the team no matter what he was doing. The Yankees won anyway, but Knoblauch helped the Yankees to a Torre-worst 87–74 record.

Trying to salvage something from Knoblauch’s breakdown, Torre moved him to left field for 2001. The move was a complete disaster. Knoblauch’s offense further declined, giving the Yankees one of the most punchless corner outfielders in the league. Knoblauch, generously listed at 5-feet-9-inches, was also too short for the outfield — it seemed as if grounders went over his head — and had no throwing arm. Torre also insisted on maintaining him in the leadoff spot, ensuring that on a per-game basis his worst hitter would bat more often than any other Yankee.

Torre would periodically smell the coffee and insist that Knoblauch was on his way to the bench for Shane Spencer or David Justice. But inevitably, Knoblauch would be back within a couple of days. During one of his brief periods as the starting left fielder, Spencer hit a double, triple, and two home runs in 41 at bats — but headed back to the bench anyway. Torre had other options, too. Juan Rivera, then 22, hit .320 AVG/.360 OBA/.557 SLG in the high minors that year. He was never tried.

This scenario was repeated again and again. In early 2005, Torre announced that Andy Phillips would take over at first base for a declining Tino Martinez and an iron-gloved Jason Giambi. The Phillips era lasted approximately one game, at which point Phillips went 0-for-5 with five strikeouts against Scott Kazmir and was buried for the rest of the season. More recently, Shelley Duncan sat on the bench for days both before and after his dramatic July home runs. Torre operated in a similar matter in his previous managerial stops. That is not to say that Torre is a bad manager. Given a solid team infrastructure, he’ll keep his players focused, make nice with the press, and (mostly) not bunt himself out of big innings, or insist that Derek Jeter become a pull hitter or Jorge Posada attempt 30 stolen bases a year. There have been many managers — perhaps a majority — who were that dumb. In keeping a ready-to-win team pointed in the right direction, Torre provides a valuable service. At the same time, he has his weaknesses, and that’s if the lineup doesn’t present itself to him on a platter, he can’t fix it, and if it stops working, he won’t change it. Unfortunately, the Dodgers are more of an unsettled situation than Torre normally likes to deal with. Unless they severely alter their roster during the offseason, Torre is going to have to make more of those pesky decisions. Grady Little’s ambivalence left the team with semi-established semi-regulars such as outfielders Matt Kemp and Andre Ethier. James Loney had a great half-season as the starter at first base — but that’s not long enough for Torre to resist reinstating a declining Nomar Garciaparra (in the way that he sent a young Brett Butler to Richmond to play Jerry Royster instead) should Loney suffer an early slump. And the Dodgers farm system, more productive than that of the Yankees, will be sending forth a steady stream of new players to test Torre’s resolve.

There was an early episode of Star Trek written by the author of “I Am Legend,” Richard Matheson, in which Captain Kirk’s aggressive qualities were extruded into an autonomous being. Unless a similar fate befalls Torre and unleashes the part of him that embraces change, the Dodgers may soon be completely snarled, and this last sequel will come to a premature close.

Mr. Goldman writes the Pinstriped Bible for yesnetwork.comcand is the author of “Forging Genius,” a biography of Casey Stengel.