In 1992, the Yankees lost 86 games; not counting strike seasons, they haven't won fewer than 87 since. This means that children born when Danny Tartabull was the team's most dangerous hitter and Melido Perez was the ace will soon graduate college having been deprived of one of life's great joys.

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The pleasures of lousy baseball are so bound up with cloying romanticism, about Chicago's crumbling old yard and Boston fans who only got to enjoy a championship as octogenarians, that you have to be cautious about touting them, so that string music doesn't start swelling. Still, these joys are real, and even if you shrug at the Yankees' recent injuries, you'll admit that the team might give their fans a chance to savor them this year.

There are five keys to getting the most from a bad team. For those who have never known one, or those who have forgotten, here they are.

Love the wrong players

During their last stretch of horrifying baseball, the Yankees would periodically come up with a player who would inexplicably play like a king for a few weeks and convince everyone, against all evidence, that he was on the verge of stardom. When 25-year-old Kevin Maas hit 15 home runs in his first 42 games in 1990, that was enough for him to get touted as the future holder of the single-season homer record.

It's an iron law that if everything goes wrong for the Yankees, someone like 26-year-old Melky Mesa will come up and hit .400 for a few weeks. Do things properly; convince yourself he's the next Joe DiMaggio.

Hate the right players

Maybe a player doesn't hustle; maybe he hustles ostentatiously. He might have a dumb habit, like bouncing curves in the dirt with runners on third, or reaching over across the plate and into the other batter's box for sliders. Whatever it is, when your team is good, you can't abandon yourself to your loathing, because you want him to do well.

When your team is bad, though, you have full license to hope he does poorly. Do David Robertson's high socks drive you mad? Have you had to restrain yourself from rushing at Joba Chamberlain with a razor and shaving off his mustache? Openly pulling for them to blow the game could be satisfying.

Harbor secret fantasies

There's nothing wrong with looking at the standings in the morning and quickly figuring how soon your team can reach its magic number when they're 10 games up in the standings going into September. There's even less wrong with doing math showing how they could win a division title when they're down 20 in late May.

Similarly, calling into WFAN proposing a Travis Hafner plus minor prospects for Miguel Cabrera deal when your team is cruising to another playoff berth just feels crass. Doing the same when they're on the verge of mathematical elimination—and touting figures that show the trade could, if everything works out just right, win them the second wild-card spot—is something different.

Circle the calendar

As a Mets fan can (and will) tell you, there's nothing more agonizing than playing disgruntled no-hopers in late September who have nothing more going for them than their desire to knock your team out of the playoffs. It seems to be the only thing that's motivated Miami ballclubs for years.

Should the Yankees fall apart, they could make for one of the great spoiler squads we've ever seen. Imagine the likes of CC Sabathia and Derek Jeter bearing down on a desperate Toronto or Tampa Bay team, looking to avenge all the frustrations of a miserable season by crushing their hopes and dreams. It could be fun!

Bask in the sense of moral superiority

If anything's more annoying than a Red Sox fan talking about how at least she really enjoyed it when her team managed to actually win something, it's a Cubs fan talking about how he will. Still, you have to admit there's something to their comically unearned sentiments. Failure really does make success all the better.

Should the absence of half their lineup and the general infirmity of the remaining half sink the Yankees' season, you'll be able to get tickets just behind the dugouts on the cheap and pat yourself on the back for being the kind of true fan who sits through all nine innings of a 10-run blowout. Then, when they inevitably revert to form in a year or so, you'll be able to spend decades gloating over how you stuck with it even when times were tough.

As Mets fans can (and will) tell you, it's a good feeling. Good enough to hope everything really does go to seed? Perhaps. It's a judgment every fan will have to make for himself.

—Tim Marchman