SLIDE OF THE YANKEES

By Tim Brown

Feb. 27, 2006 12 AM PT

TAMPA, Fla. —

Bernie Williams points out he is just another guy in a uniform, another navy streak in George Steinbrenner’s pinstriped universe, and that he could be wrong.

But he is as familiar as any of them in the last decade of the Yankees, when championships came fast and then were lost in a run of front-office miscalculations and field-level malfunctions.

Five autumns have passed since they last won a World Series. Steinbrenner has spent more than $1 billion on payroll in that time, including the 2006 season, only to end a pitch short, a pitcher away, a live bat from another trophy, close but no parade.

Williams has seen them all, and they gather in his head like the patches of gray in his beard, the image of other men celebrating the annual elimination of the Yankees. They were Diamondbacks, Marlins, Angels, even Red Sox.

The cause, he implied, was too fluid to cover with money, too devious to repair in batting practice: The Yankees came to believe championships came with the uniform.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you,” he said on a recent dank morning at Legends Field. “I think that this year marks the beginning of a slightly different attitude about this club. We were on somewhat of a downfall as far as playing with a killer instinct.”

After their appearance in the 2003 World Series, won by the Marlins, the team character shifted, Williams said. It was subtle, so much so as to be unrecognizable in the moment. It all looked like a couple of fat sliders, a fluke four-game losing streak, a sore shoulder or two. But two more seasons and then a winter spent considering his future with the Yankees -- and in baseball -- brought him somewhat closer to the truth, as he saw it.

“The team was sort of taking for granted we were going to be there every year,” he said.

It only seems as though the Yankee machine unfailingly grinds, spends and then sends teams into October, winning or losing there on talent alone. But Williams is right. They always have been gifted, in their skills and what Steinbrenner provides them. What they lacked in some of those five seasons since the Subway Series was April-to-October resolve.

How could they not put away the Red Sox in 2004? How could they flop around for half a season in 2005, injuries or not? Isn’t organizational depth the grounds for a $208-million payroll? And how could they be run over by an Angel team that couldn’t hit its way out of a forward-cabin restroom?

Suddenly, somebody else got the hit. Somebody else stole the base. Somebody else ignored the pain and chose to win.

“What I think kept the team successful all that time was the attitude,” Williams said. “We were able to enjoy the success, but put it behind us and then go do it again.

“Some people might not agree with it. I just see the answer to this, as far as the mental attitude.”

They do remain the Yankees, and business is good.

A light sprinkle on a cool morning in Yankee camp has thinned the crowd at Legends Field to a few thousand, maybe half of what it was the day before, yet many times the turnout in any other camp. The people come to see stars play catch down the right-field line, then pick up their bats and knock the winter chill from the sky.

The Yankees are again expected to win the American League East, where the Red Sox have had their roster turn over and are suffering the indignities of Manny Ramirez’s holdout and David Wells’ discontent. Johnny Damon, their dear Johnny, lockers not far from Jason Giambi, in the heart of the evil empire.

Granting the Yankees always were “the team to beat” when he was in Boston, Damon said that in recent seasons, “We did have a sense it was changing.”

In the championship seasons, especially in the big games within them, Joe Torre’s team was pitilessly efficient. The Yankees plundered their foes’ frailties, and covered for their own, and won in the hundred little places where other teams lost.

They changed. Alex Rodriguez’s regular seasons did not translate to October. The starting rotation became more expensive and less effective. The competitive ferocity of Paul O’Neill, Luis Sojo, David Cone and Tino Martinez was gone, recently replaced by side issues: General Manager Brian Cashman’s grab for autonomy, Joe Torre’s support for it, the late-February contract wrangling by Gary Sheffield, suspicions Carl Pavano lacks the stomach for the uniform and the city, the travails of Giambi.

Told Williams had these doubts about the last couple of seasons, in particular, Derek Jeter turned and said, “Who said that?”

Williams.

He nodded his head, deferring to another career Yankee.

“I’m not saying there was anything wrong with our attitude in the past,” he said carefully. “But you gotta have that attitude all the time if you want to win. Nothing’s guaranteed because you’re wearing the uniform.”

In his office across the hall from the clubhouse, Torre awaited reporters who couldn’t break away from Sheffield’s latest rant, the details of which would fill the next morning’s tabloids. He grimaced and said, “I thought that story was the other day.”

He knew better, of course. The early days of spring had passed reasonably quietly in Yankee camp. Well, other than Steinbrenner lashing out at Ozzie Guillen, Steinbrenner belittling the World Baseball Classic, Steinbrenner predicting a 27th World Series championship. Quiet for Yankee camp.

Torre said he likes what’s happening here, the reshaping of the Yankees, the enthusiasm brought by two new coaches, Larry Bowa and Tony Pena. (“Just offsets my stoic demeanor,” he said, laughing.) They bring different voices, different energy, something fresh.

He wouldn’t disagree with Williams’ observation, he said, calling it an entirely human reaction to sustained achievement.

Just then, Williams poked his head into the office and waved. Torre smiled.

“Bernie!” he shouted, bringing Williams back.

“Yeah?”

“We were just talking,” he said. “It proved to me your perceptions are right on all the time.”

Williams nodded. He thought so.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

New York, New York

Derek Jeter, Jorge Posada, Mariano Rivera and Bernie Williams are the only remaining key players from the Yankees’ last World Series title team in 2000 (*projected starters):

2000 YANKEES

Jorge Posada C

Tino Martinez 1B

Chuck Knoblauch 2B

Scott Brosius 3B

Derek Jeter SS

Paul O’Neill RF

Bernie Williams CF

David Justice LF

Shane Spencer DH

PITCHERS

Roger Clemens RHP