The most difficult thing about absorbing a devastating defeat is figuring out the best way to properly contextualize how pissed off you are.
In grad school, I was part of a mid-level intramural softball team. In my younger years I was always weirdly kind of okay at base/softball ("weirdly" because I was garbage at every other sport), so I felt that at least I wasn't making things worse. In the playoffs we were playing a team clearly a hell of a lot better than us, and I found myself at bat in the bottom of the ninth, down by like five runs with two outs and nobody on.