Shoot them. Then shoot me. And save the last bullet for yourself.

This is so depressing I don't know where to start.

We're facing the shadow of an Angels team -- no Hunter, no Vlad, no Garret Anderson -- in the aftermath of a morale-boosting sweep of Minnesota, which propelled us into a tie for first... and... this.

I'm sorry, folks.

I can't take it anymore.

I have lost faith in this team.

Let the brown-nosers tout our future. They were the ones who talked about how great it'd be when Bruney gets back, how Veras would soon get it together, how Joba has all the stuff to be a great pitcher, how Robinson Cano has turned a new leaf...

I can't handle this. I know what's going to happen next time we play Boston: Some Redsock pitcher who'se been getting bombed will throw 8 shutout innings. The hitter in a slump... he'll go 4-4.

It's been eight years of $200 million budgets geared toward meglomaniac players who are surrounded by a syncopathic, enabling media, and who cannot perform when performance matters.

Alphonso -- the most pessimistic Yankee fan in the world -- for months has been saying this team was going nowhere. I didn't believe him.

He is right. We're fooling ourselves if we think this team can win it.

Shoot me.