The clubhouse was silent but for the smack of hands and hugs. A slow procession was making its way around the room — Adley Rutschman and James McCann and Ryan Mountcastle on the inside of the column, circling around to every locker and to every teammate.

In the opposing clubhouse, music was blaring and a cheer could be heard while manager Brandon Hyde eulogized the Orioles’ season-ending loss. In the home clubhouse at Camden Yards, the walls closed in on a group of players who held onto each other one last time — because it could be one last time.

Rutschman was crying. His eyes were red. He wiped his nose and then held McCann, his fellow catcher, the longest.

“It’s the worst. The worst feeling,” Rutschman said after drying his eyes. “This is the worst feeling.”

He was in the middle of the clubhouse, and around him still swirled the procession of mourners. Corbin Burnes handed a jersey to Gunnar Henderson for the shortstop’s collection; it might be his last opportunity to do so as teammates. Mountcastle pulled in Ryan O’Hearn and whispered, “I better see you here,” referencing O’Hearn’s uncertain winter.

The room still spun — around and around it went, hugs and handshakes and a dizzying sense of reality that set in upon the final out of the American League Wild Card Series. The Kansas City Royals will play on; the Orioles will pack their bags and disperse for the winter. They will have golf trips and weddings and family time — their real family, not the one they’ve lived with since February.

“It’s tough to say goodbye,” Rutschman said, his voice breaking. “You hope some of them are back, but you just never know with baseball.”

You just never know.

Last year, when the Texas Rangers swept Baltimore in the American League Division Series, the sting was real. But it was numbed in a sense by the knowledge that so many members of that group would return for 2024.

There’s no such guarantee this go-around. The Orioles were ousted from October without winning a game once again. There were heightened expectations that were not met, and that could lead to difficult winter conversations for the coaching staff and players.

Some of the key members of this group, such as Anthony Santander and Burnes, will hit free agency. McCann is a looming free agent. Danny Coulombe and O’Hearn have team options that may or may not be picked up. A slew of relievers, even those who are arbitration eligible, may not return.

Going around the room, the question was there. It hung in the space between the players but went unspoken as they hugged. It was in the minds of every Oriole — the reality inescapable.

“These are friendships that you make and you’ll have for the rest of your life, and it’s always hard to say goodbye because you just don’t know,” Coulombe said. “You don’t know when you’re going to run into any of these guys again. I’d love to play with these guys again, but you never know what the future holds.”

The room spun further, around to Santander and Henderson, locked in a conversation that consisted mostly of pats on the back. Santander was here when Rutschman, Henderson, Jordan Westburg and more arrived. Will he be here next season?

“I think it’s more so just disappointing that a lot of these guys that we spent time with all year and grew close with and went through a lot with could be gone,” Westburg said. “That always stings, no matter how long you play this game.”

Westburg remembers the feeling even during summer ball in college, when his time with a group ended after three months. They were a constant — everyday companions in a pressure-packed profession of bright lights.

And, if it hurts for the young players, the finality of Wednesday night sunk in deeper for the veterans. Will McCann return? If not, will he have an opportunity elsewhere? Or did he play his final professional game without knowing it?

“It honestly gets harder,” McCann said of the goodbyes. “As you get older, you realize there’s a lot of things you can’t control, as far as who you’re going to be teammates with again. There’s been a lot of times in my career where I expected to be teammates with someone and then I wasn’t teammates again. That’s the hardest part of this game. You form these relationships, and by things you can’t control, you may or may not ever be teammates again. So those emotions are real, and it’s difficult to swallow.”

The swirl of the room began to slow. Henderson sat in his chair, signing a jersey for memory’s sake. Rutschman pulled off his jersey for the final time this season, eyes still red. Santander shook a few more hands and began to pack his bag.

It was silent apart from the shuffle of defeated footsteps. The slap of hands and hugs died down. They glanced about at the dwindling crowd in the clubhouse, the last dregs of their 2024 dreams streaming out in spurts.

“Just hate to have your time catch up with these guys,” Rutschman said. “You want to play as long as you can, especially with this kind of group.”

They may never have this kind of group again.