It’s about the process, not the results.

Baseball is an engrossing, yet sometimes downright maddening game, full of twists and turns that challenge our wits. To illustrate, let’s flash back four-plus months:

New York Mets closer Jeurys Familia had his team two outs away from winning Game 1 of the 2015 World Series before Alex Gordon hit a 97 mph fastball over the center-field fence to tie the score 4-4; the Kansas City Royals would eventually win in extra innings. Now, blown saves by closers aren’t entirely unexpected, but in this case, Familia had been a perfect 21-for-21 in saves with a 0.92 ERA in his previous 38 appearances. In addition, not one of Familia’s 520 previous fastballs thrown clocked 97 mph or faster had been hit out of the park. Since Sept. 1, 2014, opponents were batting .200 off those pitches and made hard contact against them only eight times.

Right process, wrong result. It happens.

Individual events like these ring home the truth about baseball prognostication: No one has a right to expect a damned thing.

We’ll delve deeper into how random variance influences baseball results later, but for now, the upshot is that you can only control your process — effectively the metaphorical equivalent of moving your chess pieces into striking position — and it is imperative that you do so to maximize your odds of success. And that’s true whether you’re Mets manager Terry Collins pushing those World Series game-strategy buttons or a fantasy baseball owner preparing for your 2016 draft.

I attribute a fine-tuned process to having won five experts league titles, which included three consecutive Tout Wars championships from 2012-14. Unfortunately, the quadru-peat wasn’t meant to be; I finished in second place in 2015.

That’s not to take anything away from what was a positive result — second place isn’t a bad spot in which to be — and it’s certainly not to take anything away from what was a stellar season by the league champion, Mike Gianella of Baseball Prospectus, who won with a commanding 14-point lead. Gianella earned his title with an ironclad process of his own, a trait he shares with the vast majority of fantasy baseball title winners over the years. The point is that you set up your team to maximize its odds, then cross your fingers tightly and hope the breaks you need fall your way.

Personally, I blame Max Scherzer and Johnny Cueto’s sluggish second halves for the result. (I’m only partly kidding.)

On Oct. 5, I began my 2016 process. Little has changed; carefully calculated process needs no overhaul. That said, there are always small improvements to be made.

So let’s get started.

I am going to win my league.

Go ahead, laugh, roll your eyes, point out my own admission that I did not win in the aforementioned Tout Wars example. Again, the result is irrelevant to the cause; the process — which in this case is your mindset — is paramount. If you scoff at this section, enjoy your sixth-place finish, or if you’re extremely lucky, rest on the laurels of your fortunate title and enjoy your lax approach that’ll result in an inevitable sixth-place finish in 2017.

You will not win — or certainly will not be a perennial contender — until you say these seven words, out loud, right now: I am going to win my league.

This statement, and the decision tied to it, is your entire purpose for playing.

Fun? OK, that’s fine, and it’s important. Boredom? Peer pressure? Passing the time until football? They’re all potential reasons, but if these are what drive you, then this isn’t the column for you. You’re here to win, and Step 1 in this process is adopting the singular mindset to do so.

Back to that thought: No one has a right to expect a damned thing.

Step 2 is understanding the fact that even an entirely flawless process doesn’t guarantee a perfect result.

Random variance is a part of the game, and those unexpected events can add up over the course of what’s roughly 2,430 games, more than 21,000 innings and 180,000 individual plays. Whether it’s a single play, like the Familia example; or a single game, such as Felix Hernandez serving up eight runs in a third of an inning last June 12, despite entering that day ranked among the top 15 pitchers in wins, ERA, WHIP and strikeouts; or a single season, such as starting pitcher Adam Wainwright suffering a torn Achilles tendon in April that limited him to only seven regular-season appearances — these events can have devastating effects on even a perfect plan.

These are the outcomes to ignore, the “noise” that threatens to shake your focus. The truth about the predicting game is that no one should ever expect to be correct at a rate significantly greater than 60 percent. Three out of every five tries. You are to shrug off the Familia, Hernandez or Wainwright result. You cannot control them.

Hey, I’m going to get some wrong, too.

Frankly, that 60 percent rate might be enough to win your league. But I set an aggressive bar for myself and I suggest you do too: 65 percent.

While that means a lot of bad calls, it also means a lot more good ones.

Just as I did a year ago, I analyzed my 2015 rankings compared to the results at season’s end — we’ll use the Player Rater for the latter measure — to get a handle on how realistic this goal is. The first two columns are the percentage of “draft-worthy” players who justified that status in a standard ESPN mixed league; the next two show the rate of almost perfectly projecting (within 50 spots) the player’s value; and the final two represent players who finished outside the “draft-worthy” pool in 2014, were ranked within that group entering 2015 and finished within 75 spots of my ranking.