Carlos Mendoza won't lean on Yankees' past to shape Mets' future

The last Yankee to manage the Mets believed his Bronx pedigree to be the most useful tool among his rookie skill set. In Willie Randolph’s mind, six World Series rings trumped any argument. But his championship aura didn’t turn out to be a bulletproof shield from any dissenting voices in Flushing and he was fired only 2 1/2 months into his fourth season.

Carlos Mendoza isn’t a Yankee in the Randolph sense. He didn’t build his Bronx identity as a key player on World Series winners in 1977 and 1978, or a former captain, before becoming a popular fixture in the coaching ranks where he added four more rings. Maybe that’s why Mendoza didn’t push the Yankee Way during Tuesday’s introductory news conference at Citi Field.

In fact, aside from thanking the late Mark Newman, the longtime Yankees’ player development guru who gave him his shot, Mendoza didn’t really bring up his former club all that much unless specifically asked. Part of that could be knowing his audience. He’s with the Mets now, and the team across town remains a bitter rival — if not always on the field, then certainly among the people in the seats.

But Mendoza spent more than a decade in the Yankees organization, and if there’s one thing he needs to pack for the move to Queens, it’s got to be whatever’s left of that franchise’s once-proud championship mentality. Not that Mendoza had to make any World Series guarantees Tuesday — for the record, he didn’t, saying only the Mets would “compete” with him at the helm.

We’ll settle for an edge, however. And establishing an accountability that goes beyond the manager’s office, convincing the players to police themselves. Winning teams have that. Last season’s Mets, as described by the illuminating Tommy Pham, clearly did not. While it seems a stretch to believe that new president of baseball operations David Stearns will re-tool the Mets into a World Series favorite this winter, Mendoza needs to work on the attitude adjustment.

There’s considerable debate over how much a manager can truly influence in the 21st century game, with the analytics-driven people upstairs flexing their data muscles to varying degrees. But Mendoza is the guy on the ground, and having a capable voice there still carries some impact. From what Stearns has learned about his new hire, Mendoza is equipped to made sure — put bluntly — the Mets are doing their jobs.

“I think one of the unique things about Carlos that people told me about him and that I felt through the interview process is this is someone with tremendous people skills,” Stearns said. “That people like, get along with, can relate to — but he also holds people to incredibly high standards. He talks about accountability, and he also kind of lives it. That’s difficult to find.

“It’s difficult to find people that are leaders that people really like and enjoy working with, but also someone who’s going to expect a lot out of them. And I think Carlos does that.”

At this point, Stearns is making his best guess, based on the intel and due diligence he’s gathered on Mendoza, whose managerial experience consists of the minor leagues, winter ball and the few dozen times he’s filled in after an Aaron Boone ejection. There’s value in that, obviously. But calling the shots from the big chair in Flushing, accompanied by all the blowback that generates? You can’t simulate this kind of pressure.

Which is why Mendoza coming over from the Bronx, where he had a front-row seat to Boone’s own trials and tribulations, should be helpful. It’s not necessarily a lack of baseball IQ that tends to prove fatal to first-time managers in New York. It’s the world going up in flames around them. Either they learn to function amid the chaos, deal with the heat and find a way to play winning baseball. Or they get chewed up in yet another round of organizational housecleaning, as we’ve witnessed in Flushing over the past six years.

Mendoza is catching the Mets at a turbulent time, but Stearns has his back and he’s got the sport’s richest owner financing his managerial debut. That makes for a decent safety net. After last season’s costly embarrassment, however, the angry folks in Metsville are going to be setting the bar high for Mendoza, rookie or not.

Considering all that, I asked Mendoza if he’s taking his previous Yankees mindset into this new Mets’ gig, which is what Randolph said back in ’04, referring to the “swagger” he planned to bring to Flushing. Mendoza wasn’t quite as bold in his proclamations.

“At the end of the day, you’re here to win, right?” Mendoza said. “As a competitor, when you’re playing a game, you want to win. We want to build something that is going to allow us to compete for championships. That’s the biggest goal.”

As for Tuesday’s introduction, Mendoza quickly dominated the stage, repeatedly switching from English to Spanish, extending many thanks, including to his parents, wife Francis and family sitting in the front rows. He seemed comfortable in control. But what we didn’t get from him was a preview of what a Mendoza-led team might look like on the field.

Truth is, even the Mets don’t know that for sure. Other than Mendoza’s No. 28 jersey, it’s difficult to tell, here in November, how the rest of this will fit.

By David Lennon

dave.lennon@newsday.comDPLennon

David Lennon is an award-winning columnist, a voter for baseball's Hall of Fame and has covered six no-hitters, including two perfect games.