It is moments like these when we -- the sports writers who cover the games and the fans who watch them -- can't possibly imagine how the Rochester Knighthawks are feeling this morning.

We can't even pretend to know the grief, the frustration, the sadness that is engulfing each and every one of them.

Well, I'll take that back. If any of you have ever lost a professional championship game in a packed and raucous arena, on national cable television in two countries, on a shot that burrowed its way into the back of the net with one second left to go in regulation time, then my condolences to you as well.

If that's ever happened to you, then I guess you know what it's like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and stomped upon.

My goodness, that must really hurt.

That was the sense I got last night in walking through the Knighthawks locker room which could have very easily passed for a funeral parlor: This loss really hurt.

These guys were in pain, and I felt bad for them. Not to would have been inhuman.

To have played as hard as they did; to have fought and clawed and scratched and punched as long as they did; to have battled back from a three-goal halftime deficit and a two-goal hole with less than two minutes remaining to tie the game, only to lose when Toronto's Kaleb Toth unloaded a shot that looked like it was fired from a cannon with one second to go had to be nearly unbearable.

"This one is probably the hardest one ever," said veteran Tim Soudan, who now has been on the losing side in three of the four championship games he has participated in as a member of the Knighthawks.

How could it not be?

When Rochester lost to Philadelphia in its first title game appearance during its inaugural season in 1995 on Gary Gait's overtime goal, the pain was palpable.

But it surely wasn't like this.

The Knighthawks were a fledgling team then, and quite frankly they were just thrilled to be in that situation. They got over that loss quite nicely and two years later beat Buffalo for the final Major Indoor Lacrosse League championship.

Having tasted champagne from the Champions Cup, from that day forward the Knighthawks knew the difference between winning and losing, and that's what they are trying to cope with today.

"It's not easy," said Duane Jacobs, who like Soudan is an original member of the Knighthawks. "Sometimes you wonder if you have anything left emotionally. It really does wear on you, but you have to move forward.

"There's nothing we can do now, we have to keep working and persevering. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

If that's true, then the Knighthawks should come out looking like Hercules and Atlas rolled into one when the 2001 season begins.

However, as the Knighthawks learned this year, talent isn't everything.

This is a supremely talented team, but it was also a team that lost its way midway through the season and at one point was 3-4 and on the outside looking in at the playoff race.

Coach Paul Day regrouped his troops superbly and they won six in a row to make it back to Maple Leaf Gardens, and therein lies the rub. They had to play at MLG instead of friendly Blue Cross Arena.

Next year, the Knighthawks will again be championship contenders, but the first order of business should be to finish first in the league and secure homefield advantage in the playoffs.

Rock coach Les Bartley admitted yesterday that "this crowd makes a huge difference. Rochester is a different team at home. I would say that if we had played this game in Rochester, they would have won."

Now it's time to lick their wounds and heal their hurt. Next year, it will be time to win that elusive second championship.