The Phillies’ loss to the Diamondbacks returned Philly sports to its natural state. Of misery.

When did I become the old guy? It is a question I have been asking myself more in the last year. I’ve had my reasons. Saw one son turn 12 and the other turn 9. Celebrated my 30th high school reunion last weekend. (Is celebrated the correct word there?) Celebrated my 16th wedding anniversary last month. (It is definitely the right word there.) Scheduled the obligatory midlife colonoscopy for next month. (Definitely won’t be celebrating that.) I’m four gray hairs and one sore knee away from taking up pickleball and binge-watching Blue Bloods.

Middle age, though, has its benefits, especially at this moment. We Gen Xers can toggle pretty well between the distant past and the mile-a-second present. We know how to use TikTok, but we don’t rely on it as our primary source for information and historical context on geopolitical upheaval. We still like sending emails, but at least we don’t write them entirely in capital letters. And when there’s an event that unites the region in collective shock and dismay — an event like, say, the Phillies throwing away a berth in the World Series — we can place it in some perspective, because we have some perspective in which to place it.

So here’s a little of that perspective.

On the one hand … yeah, that NLCS was ugly. The Phillies had a two-games-to-none lead on the Diamondbacks. They had a one-run lead after six-and-a-half innings in Game 3. They had a three-run lead after six-and-a-half innings in Game 4. They had a three-games-to-two lead heading back to Citizens Bank Park. Their hitters were pressing. Their pitchers were gassed. Their decision-making was questionable. They were the best team left in the playoffs, and they blew it.

The public despondency in the aftermath of Game 7 has been intense, and that reaction has been understandable. For all the good feelings that had been swirling around the Philadelphia sports scene, a pattern of disappointment has developed.

The 2022 Phillies made a terrific run to the World Series, had a lead in that series, and lost. The 2022 Eagles had a remarkable season, held a 10-point lead at halftime of Super Bowl LVII, and lost. The 76ers had a three-games-to-two lead over the Celtics in last season’s playoffs, were poised to reach the Eastern Conference finals for the first time in more than two decades, and lost. That’s a whole lot of runway without any takeoff.

On the other hand … those of us who have been around here a while know that Philly fans have seen and experienced worse. If it were possible to condense the 1964 Phillies season into six days, you’d get the final five games of this NLCS. But if you could condense it into three days, you’d get Games 4 and 5 of the 2011 NLDS — Ryan Howard’s Achilles, Chris Carpenter’s shutout. If you could condense it into 20 minutes, you’d get the top of the ninth inning of Game 3 of the 1977 NLCS — Vic Davalillo and Manny Mota and Black Friday. And if you could condense it to one pitch, you’d get Mitch Williams vs. Joe Carter, bottom of the ninth inning, Game 6, the 1993 World Series.

You thought February’s Super Bowl loss was rough? The losses in 1981 and 2005 were rougher, because the Eagles hadn’t won a Super Bowl yet.

You thought this year’s postseason choke against the Celtics was bad? Be grateful that you weren’t around throughout the 1960s, when Wilt Chamberlain kept winning scoring titles and Bill Russell kept winning championships. Be grateful you weren’t around, or weren’t paying attention, in 1981. In that year’s Eastern Conference Finals, the Sixers had a 3-1 lead over the Celtics — and had a mediocre Houston Rockets team waiting for them in the Finals — and burped up that series. That, after having lost in the Finals in 1977 and 1980 and after having been bounced early from the playoffs in 1978 and 1979.

The point is not that no one should be lamenting or complaining about the Phillies’ loss. Lament and complain away. The point is not that the team’s most devoted fans shouldn’t feel a sting if they happen to flip on Fox one night and join the dozens of people watching Diamondbacks-Rangers. The Phillies should be playing in this World Series, and they’re not, and that will sting and should sting.

No, the point is that people began to believe that they would escape the miasma of misery that hung over previous generations of sports fans here. Things were better now. The teams were better now. The black clouds were fading. Everyone was happier.

» READ MORE: This is a kinder, gentler era of Philly sports fandom. Here’s how it came about.

It was all true. Everyone really was happier. Then the Diamondbacks dumped an ice bucket of reality over everyone’s head. And the reality is this: This pain and disappointment — and all the panic and anxiety that preceded it as Craig Kimbrel grooved 93 mph fastballs and Nick Castellanos lost all sense of the strike zone — are the natural way of things in Philadelphia sports.

It’s what we’re used to. It’s what we know. It’s what we expect. It’s who we are. This is where we’re comfortable. This is where we live. As Barbara Hershey’s dour school principal says in Hoosiers, “Things don’t really change. Makes you feel real solid inside.”

By that standard, things are as solid here as they’ve ever been. You just have to be old enough to remember the feeling.