By attending games, Yankee fans are spending vast sums to view the wreckage of baseball's Titanic.

In this era of expanded playoffs, when any team with a pulse can chase October dreams, the miserable Yankees are tied with Houston - #$@% Houston - for the final AL wild card slot. 

We are struggling. We don't manufacture runs, a team of solo shots. Most BA's fall below .220. Our defense botches critical plays. The bullpen cannot hold a lead. Our team seldom rallies. 

The manager gets tossed from games but never criticizes shoddy play. He's a decent human being, but a kiss-ass for management. The fans boo:  the jeering of Jackie Donaldson brought last night's loudest moment. The GM has few options, and his disastrous deals killed the team last August. Over the last calendar year, they are a middling mediocrity - a record of about .500, despite a $277 million payroll. Business schools should study how the Yankees harvest so little from spending so much.   

Which raises three questions: 

Where the fuck are we? how the fuck did we get here? and what did we do to deserve this?

Where we are: Okay, honestly... we're not terrible. In theory, when Aaron Judge returns, and if Carlos Rodon pitches well, we could make a run. Not at the division - forget catching Tampa. And we probably can't overtake Baltimore, (led by the great Aaron Hicks.) But there's that last wild card berth; we're in a race of tomato cans, and some of our holes should plug themselves. Giancarlo Stanton may be reaching his career twilight, but he won't hit .180. Anthony Volpe should improve, though he's suffered enough trauma for three rookie seasons. We are also-rans, deal with it. That said, so was Philly last year, and they damn near pulled it off. 

How we got here: Well, it's taken 20 years of hubris, of expecting to get huge returns in trades, of getting something for nothing. A few years back, free agents Bryce Harper and Manny Machado came to NY and campaigned like politicians for the chance to play for the Yankees. Either would be cornerstones. We blew them off, not wanting to face a bidding war. To this day, we have no great LH slugger, and 3B remains a disaster. 

We let Boston outbid us for Yoan Moncada, after he came from Cuba. We wouldn't get involved in a bidding war. The Redsocks converted him into Chris Sale. For the last three years, we ignored a wave of star free agent shortstops, and now we wonder if Volpe will hit, or if he should play 2B. Brian Cashman's success has been picking players off the scrap heap. We value from the minimum salaries. But on big deals, we clutch our purse, then swing and miss. 

What did we do to deserve this? Well, we watch. We scream at the TV, we hide behind the couch. We care. As long as the Steinbrenner family owns the premier sports team in New York City, and all they have to do is be competitive, we are willing soldiers in this deception. To that, I plead guilty. 

I am old, and I doubt I'll live to see the Yankees win another championship. I wish I could put my allegiance to the team in a box and throw it in the ocean. The Yankees are doing what they've done for the last 15 years, and they are going nowhere.

That said, the season didn't end last night against Texas, or in Boston last weekend, and it won't through the month of July. The Yankees are big, slow dinosaurs, but they still can thrash through a forest. We have Judge and Gerrit Cole - the two players Hal Steinbrenner broke the bank for. (By the way, he was sorta shamed into it by both.) But look across baseball and you see young, emerging stars everywhere. They are remaking the power structure of the game. None play for the Yankees.