What's left to follow in Mariners' lost season?

And the weird thing is, there are still 67 games left.

In their first 95 games, the Mariners fired a general manager, a field manager and a first baseman. They watched a major acquisition devolve into a mistake with a pitch count. They even turned a lesbian kiss into an uproar.

Sure would've been nice if the Mariners had paced themselves. Barring major trade-deadline theatrics, we're in for a slow evaporation of this mercurial season. Even if the Mariners detonate the roster before July 31, two meandering months will still remain.

So this post-All-Star break quandary is more like a case study: How To Navigate Irrelevance.

(Sub-quandary No. 1: How To Create A Mercy Rule For Lost Seasons. Sub-quandary No. 2: How To Acquire Howard Lincoln-like Job Security.)

It will be a long journey to an empty October. Again.

It makes you miss the previous three seasons, when the Mariners were kinda-sorta in it until falling down a summer slide. Back in May, the thought was that nothing is tougher than following a team out of the race in May. The next month, the same was said for June.

Now the rest of July, August and September looms. It almost makes you miss Richie Sexson, if only for the punching-bag pleasure he provided. OK, maybe not. Nevertheless, these are cumbersome times.

What to do? I've already expressed my preference for the Mariners to make merely moderate change at the trade deadline. If that happens, then Dave Niehaus' Hall of Fame induction will be both the feel-good story of the summer and the precursor to nothingness.

Sure, the baseball team has plenty to do. Interim general manager Lee Pelekoudas is trying to prove himself. Interim manager Jim Riggleman is trying to prove himself. President Chuck Armstrong is trying to rustle up other candidates for both jobs. There are young players to be developed, and old players to be scrutinized. But as the focus shifts even more toward the future, the present may become even less enjoyable.

You probably think that the year couldn't be more joyless, but it can be. Unless the Mariners figure out how to nurture and win at the same time, it must be that way. When a team is fighting to stay out of last place nearly two-thirds into the season, it's foolish to eschew evaluation in favor of winning a couple more games.

Certainly, the Mariners want to avoid becoming the first 100-loss team with a $100 million payroll. Beyond that, however, what's the difference between 90 and 95 losses?

We've arrived at a central dilemma in lost seasons: What do you owe the fans who are spending too much money for too much heartache? The Mariners can't fill the lineup with green major-leaguers and minor-league prospects and lose 80 percent of their remaining games. At the same time, however, they can't carry on like they're still in contention.

Most fans understand that. They're watching now out of love for the team and the game. In the seven years since the Mariners last qualified for the playoffs, they've tested the public's patience in every possible manner. Resilient bunch, these fans. They can survive 67 more games.

But the big picture will dominate the rest of the Mariners' season. The search is on to find the meaning behind everything.

The most intrigue lies in the uncertain futures of everyone associated with this team not named Felix Hernandez. The young prodigy is the one player the Mariners can't lose. Everyone else? You must ponder their long-term prospects in Seattle. That includes Ichiro, no matter how unlikely the Mariners are to trade him.

Even when the trade deadline ends, the suspense will linger. The players who don't get dealt will have only ducked the first swing. When the new GM arrives, the roster will become fluid once more.

It will be telling to see which Mariners end the year well and which ones flop. During this time, the Mariners should gain even more clarity about their offseason.

But as far as on-field significance is concerned, the final 67 games will resemble spring training again. It's a long line of exhibition contests.

Win 'em? Well, it's good for the pride.

Lose 'em? Well, they were out of it anyway.

It's no way to follow a season. It's 2004 and 2005 all over again.

From the bottom, you look up, angry over what has happened, wondering what the new plan will be. Before the new, you must suffer as the old wastes away. And the old never dissolves as quickly as you'd like.

Jerry Brewer: 206-464-2277 or jbrewer@seattletimes.com. For his Extra Points blog, visit seattletimes.com/sports