Face it. It’s over… again.

Don’t waste another day of this glorious, too-short summer expecting the Red Sox to win their division, storm into the playoffs and finally win … well, you know.

1918.

Like Sylvester the Cat, Charlie Brown, and Wile E. Coyote, the Boston nine is doomed and destined to lose, to be a forever handmaiden to the Yankees. It has been thus for my entire life and I expect no changes.

The only way the Red Sox could win this year was by never letting the Yankees get the lead. Somehow, they held them off from Patriot’s Day to Monday morning, 69 days. I have the standing on “favorites” on my computer. As I log on each morning, it is the first thing I check.

Even as the Red Sox miraculously fashioned the best record in baseball during the early months of the season, the Damn Yankees always remained a few games behind. Finally, because of a pathological inability to beat National League teams, the Red Sox fell apart in June (it usually is July) and the Yanks passed them on Monday morning.

The Red Sox and their faithful fans are nice people, sure. But like a dog that has been beaten too much, they wince once they lose the lead in an individual game or in the standings. The Red Sox have lost to the Yankees so many times that it is a wonder they have any fans left. I hate to say it, we expect to lose. We are pleasantly surprised when we win.

The Yankees expect to win, and do.

Once the Sox lose the lead to the Yankees, the pressure builds. The accumulated pressure of 84 years of failure sits like an anvil on their shoulders, making every inning, every run, every game much too crucial.

The Sox won exactly three of nine games on their usually fatal West Coast road trip.

Meanwhile the Yankees cruise along, augmented by pitcher Mike Mussina (last year) and slugger Jason Giambi (this year) hitting home runs at a record clip, beating all comers.

The Sox are the walking wounded. Manny Ramirez has a broken thumb and can’t hit minor-league pitching. Everyone holds their breath every time Pedro Martinez takes the mound. Trot Nixon can’t hit his weight. Brian Daubach hasn’t seen the ball in a month. Multimillionaire Jose Offerman is batting .225 but that’s better than the feeble giant, Tony Clark, the former all-star first baseman who is on life support at .206. Now we know why the Detroit Tigers let him go.

The best we can hope for is that 29 of the next 38 games are against teams with a losing record. There is always a chance. But you know better, don’t you?

Make it easy on yourself.

Take a drive. Go canoeing. Take a sail. Go on a picnic. Get a hobby.

Have a nice summer.

It was fun while it lasted.

Wait till next year.

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.