PHILADELPHIA -- The curse may never end. But maybe Philly fans are used to it. Maybe it's our lot in life.

Or maybe we could go ahead and be nice and optimistic about it and say that when we finally do win a championship in a major sport it will be that much sweeter.

But let's not do that. Let's not let ourselves believe it's even possible anymore. Let's blame it on someone way up in the proverbial There, because, let's face it, somebody with a whole lot of power in the grand scheme of things has something against Philly.

It's been 20 years. Two decades since the good Doctor and his pals won the NBA title. I was one year old.

In 1993 when Joe Carter hit a home run to beat the Phillies in the World Series, I cried.

In 1997, when the Flyers were unceremoniously swept out of the Stanley Cup by a relentless Detroit team, I wept (despite my being in high school).

When the Sixers lost to the Lakers in 2001, I turned to a new and dear friend I had been introduced to at Penn State. After consuming a few choice and very cold beverages, I may have cried. Reports vary.

So there's the evolution of a Philadelphia sports fan. Sad.

Yesterday, after the Eagles' 27-10 loss, I stood silent for a long moment. I could not think. You're not supposed to be partial while working in the press box. Today, that task wasn't easy.

One man who I was sure would take the loss hard was defensive end Hugh Douglas. The emotional leader of the defense played what may have been his last game as an Eagle yesterday, and he played poorly, making just one tackle.

His contract is up this year, and although he's indicated staying with the Eagles would suit him just fine, you never can believe anything anymore. That's just the reality of the free agent market. Douglas can talk and talk about how much he loves Philly, how much he wants a championship, how much he loves his teammates, but eventually, the money will hit the table.

But that's the future. And, as the short and thoughtful president of the Eagles, Joe Banner, said, "It might just be a good idea to go through the emotions of the moment before we talk about the future."

About Douglas. He calls himself The Incredible Hulk, after the comic book character. He thinks of himself as the mild-mannered sort off the field, and a big crazy green guy on it. It's a fairly fitting nickname. At 6-2, 280 pounds, Douglas is a bit undersized. But he's going to his third consecutive Pro Bowl because of rage he finds when he faces bigger, more skilled athletes on Sunday afternoons. Rage that comes out when he turns Green.

But in the locker room yesterday, Douglas was not Green. He was sad.

And naked, except for a towel.

"Naked man coming through," he said. Then he dressed in all fleece, and, warm and wooly, turned to talk to us.

But wait. What does sports mean to a city like Philly? What does it mean to people in general?

For a real answer, ask your sociology professor. Or, maybe in the case of Eagles fans, a psychologist. There are real, and possibly disturbing, reasons for why so many people become so engrossed by a game.

But the fact is, good or bad, football owned this town last week.

Who knows what would have happened had the Eagles won against Tampa. Both local newspapers were already running well upward of 10 Eagles stories a day, from their front page to the features page to a special sports section dedicated to the team.

The new sports editor of the Philadelphia Inquirer said he hadn't even had time to think about his few-days old job yet, so caught up he was in trying to cover Eagles fever.

Every news cast. Plenty of billboards. All over the place. The Eagles.

Maybe sports bring people together. Or, more precisely, gives them an easy way to do something they're naturally inclined to do. Because sitting in the Vet, for the last football game ever to be played there with 67,000 friends, you can't help but feel a part of something.

Which brings us back to Douglas.

He answered a few questions about the game itself.

"They went to a quick passing game. They established the run. We couldn't get off the field and get the offense a chance."

Then, the questions about the future came. Douglas didn't want to talk about it. Said he hadn't even thought about it.

But he offered this.

"When you get to this point in your career, when you've played for a few years and know you might not play too many more, you want a (Super Bowl) ring," he said. "You want to be part of something special."

Philly fans know that feeling.