ORLANDO, Fla. — The silver lining for the Wilpons, on this dark day amid this dark week, came in the reality they weren’t even close to being Public Enemy No. 1 among their ownership fraternity as baseball’s lords of the manor convened to count their billions.

Take a bow, Houston Astros — and hire a bodyguard. It probably proved for the best that Astros owner Jim Crane skipped the first owners’ meetings since confirmation of his employees’ sign-stealing emerged.

The Wilpons’ plight, however, also generated plenty of chatter, highlighted by curiosity and concern. Curiosity over what sank the current Mets owners’ deal to sell their beloved club to hedge-fund magnate Steve Cohen. And concern about the next step for what should be a jewel franchise.

We can play the blame game all the way until Jarred Kelenic’s Hall of Fame induction. The key question remains, what now for the Mets and their beleaguered stewards?

Sterling Partners, the Wilpons’ firm, released a statement on Thursday night that read, “Sterling intends now to pursue a new transaction and has engaged Allen & Company to manage that process.” The Mets remain for sale, in other words, their succession dilemma not magically disappearing with the Cohen deal’s implosion. But can these Mets owners, who seem to struggle with so much small stuff, find a buyer as alluring as Cohen appeared to be just two months ago, at a price close to the $2.6 billion that Cohen originally conceded to pay?

Look, when a dumpster fire like this produces such wildly divergent accounts of what transpired, the truth typically lies somewhere in the middle. Yet the Wilpons get crushed thanks to their general history of ineptitude as well as their specific history of dancing this dance nearly nine years ago with hedge-fund magnate David Einhorn, only to have that agreement fall apart, too.

This one, however, stings the fan base especially hard because of Cohen’s reputation as a big swinging you-know-what who would’ve energetically pursued the likes of Mookie Betts and enjoyed sticking it to the Yankees. Who would’ve found his version of Brian Cashman, Theo Epstein or Andrew Friedman to run a baseball operations department that would’ve invested not only in MVP talent, but also in enough performance-science and analytics technology to make Citi Field look like NORAD headquarters in “WarGames.”

If someone else as prominent and as loaded as Cohen exists, that person flies successfully under the radar. Which is why you still can’t wholly rule out a reconciliation with Cohen, as much of a long shot as it currently appears — how about Cohen trolling the Wilpons with his “As an 8% holder I’m looking forward to a higher bid” jab? — right up to the point when someone else assumes the Mets’ reins.

Officials at these meetings emerged confused and disappointed, some with Cohen for what they perceived as late demands (including a lowering of that purchase price), others with the Wilpons for mucking up another deal. On one hand, sure, the National League teams in particular benefit from a Mets team that wobbles about, occasionally stumbling into success, but far more often shooting itself in the foot. In the bigger picture, though? A rising tide in Queens lifts all baseball boats. Imagine if the Mets operated as smoothly as the Dodgers, or the Yankees, and how much the entire sport would gain.

When the Einhorn talks fell apart, the Wilpons survived by selling small shares of the team to other parties, including Cohen, and they enjoyed a moment of vindication and prosperity when they qualified for the 2015 World Series, enthralling their emotionally battered fan base and giving the fantastic Citi Field a deserving platform. That didn’t last, though, the Mets landing back in the red more recently, and a similar strategy now wouldn’t solve the issue of team president Saul Katz (Fred Wilpon’s brother-in-law) wanting out.

No such internal bailout will occur this time, the Mets already have announced. For now, though, you get the status quo: A dark cloud hovering over a 2020 Mets season, despite a roster that might be competitive and entertaining. A possibly great franchise unable to fulfill its potential. And, a little different, all of us wiser than ever to not start counting the post-Wilpon Mets’ chickens unless they actually hatch.