Season’s over.

The Boston Red Sox front office couldn’t have made that more clear if it hired pilots to fly banners over Fenway Park during Saturday afternoon’s game with the Detroit Tigers.

Or sold advertising space on Kevin Youkilis’ scalp and Dustin Pedroia’s air cast.

Two full months of baseball remain to be played, but due to some bizarre combination of apathy and I guess martyrdom, the Sox tapped out at the trading deadline.

They barely budged, scarcely opened their wallets, while other self-respecting franchise raced to the 4 p.m. July 31 wire.

My recommendation from now until some other team you hate takes a champagne bath the final week of October is that you shouldn’t either. Reckon the Sox dead, because they are.

Don’t believe me? Let me spell it out for you.

Precisely half the 30 teams in Major League Baseball have a puncher’s chance of getting some early-autumn TV time between promos for “Lopez Tonight.” At least a half-dozen of the have-nots were in full-on fire sale mode in the seven days leading up to the deadline.

Of the haves, 13 teams did something other than fiddle with their batting gloves and adjust their athletic supporters prior to the final gun.

The two that didn’t?

Cincinnati, barely able to afford the indoor plumbing in its clubhouse.

And your Boston Red Sox.

Well, unless you count Jarrod Saltalamacchia.

Yes, “Who the …” is the appropriate response. Other than being one letter ahead of former Giants pitcher William Van Landingham for the longest surname in major league history, Salty has a .251 career batting average in four big-league seasons with Atlanta and Texas.

He becomes unofficially the 33rd different catcher to wear a Red Sox uniform this season. But who’s counting?

As of this hunt-and-pecking, here’s the skinny on what everyone else acquired — some deals still pending MLB approval — for a tube of eye-black, a bag of stirrups and a case of amphetamine-free energy drink to be named later:

Yankees — Lance Berkman, Austin Kearns, Kerry Wood. (Switch-hitting power, a versatile outfielder and bullpen help. Pffffft, the Sox couldn’t use any of that.)

Dodgers — Ted Lilly, Ryan Theriot, Scott Podsednik, Octavio Dotel. (No word on which McCourt gets whom in the divorce settlement.)

Rangers — Cliff Lee, Cristian Guzman, Jorge Cantu. (And they’re bankrupt.)

Twins — Matt Capps. (Never heard of him? He’ll be 18-for-18 closing games down the stretch while Manny Delcarmen continues to make your ulcers bleed as a set-up guy.)

Rays — Chad Qualls. (Don’t laugh. They did something. I’d be giddy if the Sox announced they’d lured Chad Bradford out of retirement at this point.)

White Sox — Edwin Jackson. (He was available? Who knew? Maybe Boston figured Dice-K already fulfilled its quota of Guys Who Can Throw No-Hitters While Averaging a Walk Per Inning.)

Padres — Ryan Ludwick, Miguel Tejada. (Remember when the Sox used to pull off three-team deals at the deadline while the Padres made every move imaginable to keep their payroll under $15 million? Yeah, me too.)

Tigers — Jhonny Peralta. (Promptly bashed two home runs against Boston on Friday night.)

Giants — Javier Lopez. (See ‘Rays’ above.)

Cardinals — Jake Westbrook. (Every other team apparently got the memo that the gold-digging widow from “Major League” was running the Indians again.)

Phillies — Roy Oswalt. (Durable. Always puts up good numbers in September and October. Did I mention durable?)

Angels — Dan Haren. (No rational person with a last name that isn’t Scioscia thinks the Halos have a chance in the land of horns and pitchforks of catching the Rangers in the American League West. This, Theo Epstein, is called “creating the illusion of effort.” Look into it.)

Braves — Kyle Farnsworth, Rick Ankiel. (At least we don’t have to watch Ankiel go 9-for-13 while the Sox are somehow getting swept by the Royals anymore.)

The door isn’t closed, technically. But any acquisition going forward must clear waivers, a process that consists of Yankees brass checking their text messages and spitting out “yeah, whatever” between belly laughs. Nobody of consequence changes dugouts in August or September.

Boston’s inaction last week defied logic, but let’s be charitable and say there are only two logical explanations for the team’s deadline behavior.

1. The Sox believe they will contend if they can just get healthy. Great. And I believe this is a the last column I’ll ever write while sitting in a chair I bought at Marden’s in 1995 in the living room of my double-wide trailer if I won Powerball last night.

2. They’ve given up on the season. And I don’t understand that one.

Nothing about the Yankees and Devil Rays appears invincible. The non-descript, pitching-and-defense Sox were a half-game out of first place four weeks ago, friends, even after the most bizarre rash of injuries this side of “Mystery E.R.” left Terry Francona penciling in Pawtucket’s lineup every night.

Also, am I the only one who remembers that the Sox were 56-46, 8 1/2 games out of first place on this date in 2004? In what most of us believed was the multi-team deal from hell, the Sox shipped out Nomar Garciaparra and picked up Orlando Cabrera and Doug Mientkiewicz in return.

Pretty sure it worked out. Which is why I would have been satisfied with some deal, any deal, for the love of all that is decent and holy.

But as is evidenced by a three-year run of thrifty hot stove seasons, the Sox seem unwilling to risk prospects or lucre in order to improve in the here-and-now.

Maybe the 2004 and 2007 titles were enough to satiate some folks for the next 86 years. Not I. Like a contestant on “Buff Brides” three years later, the Sox seem to have given up. Let themselves go.

They seem content to plead poverty, even with the second-fattest payroll in baseball, and let the Yankees spend, spend more, and celebrate. Guess there aren’t enough $25 pink hats being sold.

Boston entered Saturday at 58-45, 6 1/2 games behind Tampa Bay in the wild card chase. Only six teams (Yankees, Rays, White Sox, Rangers, Braves, Padres) boasted a better winning percentage.

Most of them got better. We got Salty.

And I’m getting ready for football season.

Kalle Oakes is a staff columnist. His e-mail is [email protected].