NEW YORK, N.Y., Nov. 8 — “The Scout proves to be an unsatisfying single that should have been a home run.” Thus read one of the many less than enthusiastic reviews of the 1994 baseball movie that featured, aside from stars Albert Brooks and Brendan Fraser (with a cameo by George Steinbrenner himself), the building I have lovingly come to refer to as The Cathedral: Yankee Stadium.

The timing was perfect, at least for a baseball junkie like myself, the summer of ’94, the Yanks in first, and the season stolen away from me by a big-business conspiracy that made no more sense then than it would have to the kid who fell in love with baseball, the Yankees, their Stadium — and the Mick — in 1961. A big fan of Albert Brooks as well, I frowned leaving the theater that he could film such a turkey, largely inside the House That Ruth Built.

I was reminded of the sour mood that experience gave me the other day when I read the rumor than one of my heroes, Donald Arthur Mattingly, has an inside track on taking Gary Denbo’s place as New York Yankees hitting coach. This sense of unease was first piqued last year when Chris Chambliss was let go, and Donnie was first mentioned in this regard. I love Yankee Stadium, love Don Mattingly, and love seeing the two together. But I think Don’s a poor fit for hitting coach, for two reasons. He played the game with passion and pride. He would be robbed of both as a coach.

Passion: Don was the best defensive first baseman of his generation and the best lefthanded hitter in the majors for five years running because of his enormous passion. Kirby Puckett played as Donnie’s rival for years, and experienced losing games to the Yankees largely due to Don’s exploits again and again. But it wasn’t during a postgame interview after one of those games that he dubbed him “Donnie Baseball.” No, it was bumping into him on a rainy weekend in New York that got Kirby talking. With the upcoming game certainly rained out, Kirby happened upon Donnie sweating and swinging his mvp bat in the early morning hours under Yankee Stadium, and that’s when he knew that this was “Donnie Baseball.” How does Don “teach” that drive and thirst for excellence to the average ballplayer?

Pride: Although no rings adorn the fingers on Donnie’s two hands, everyone who ever saw him play the game, or who played against him, respected Don Mattingly and his approach to baseball. In today’s game, however, many coaches suffer the indignities that time and fortune have bestowed upon them. Many know the sad tale of draftee Brien Taylor, who signed with the Yanks for big bucks, got hurt in a bar fight, and never pitched for them. I think it was even sadder that from the day he signed with the team he never had any idea who Ron Guidry was.

Graig Nettles tells of the indignity of serving as a first base coach, and having players who will never match your game toss their batting helmet to you as they run to field their position, as if you are more of a bellhop than a teacher and a guide. (He also smiles at the time he gave Mel Hall his batting helmet — in pieces after destroying it right in front of him with a bat.) And batting coach is beginning to earn the cachet specific to the manager, pitching coach and GM in the early Steinbrenner days. If the team loses, replace the coach.

I loved Don as a player. I’m delighted that he is revered and respected; that the Yankee Stadium applause at the mention of his name rivals that of Yogi and Whitey and the Scooter; that he is brought in as a special scout from time to time; that he is enjoying life with his family. And it hurts me that the four out of six Championships arrived right after he handed in his spikes, just as I beam with pride that he played the only postseason series in which he participated with grace and talent and a dynamite bat.

I cringe that the next report I read on him could be of a clueless rookie mangling his name, or a spoiled owner replacing him as coach.

YANKEE BASEBALL!!!