Sigh.

After meticulously counting down the moments until Opening Day arrived at Comerica Park, sitting through a 9-19 showing in spring training and returning north for eight miserable losses, I remember now why I was so eager to forget the last Tigers baseball season.

Call me crazy (and I'm sure you will), but when Detroit finished 55-106 last year, I really, really thought this year couldn't be any worse.

It was the worst season Detroit had since 1996. The Tigers have finished short of 55 wins just three times in 100 seasons of baseball.

Watching Bobby Higginson get hit with the ball to kill a comeback Wednesday, I'm beginning to think this year the Tigers finally might outdo themselves.

Given that they'd averaged just one run a game until Wednesday, I was ecstatic when, in the top of the seventh, my boys came roaring back from a 9-1 deficit against the Royals to pull within three. I whooped and hollered and ran around the newsroom like a fool, certain April 9 was going to be the day the Tigers would win their first of the season.

With Higgy on first in the bottom of the ninth, Carlos Peña belts a nice single up the middle. I rejoice - for all of maybe half a second, until I realize Peña's "nice single" had just struck Higginson for the game's final out.

I drop to the ground, crushed, and my coworkers pelt me with hysterical laughter and Tigers jokes.

I'm told it's even more fun because I take baseball - and the Tigers - "just a little too seriously."

"Hey D," someone says.

I wince because I know exactly what's coming. "What?"

"We took a poll to see when the Tigers would win their first game and I picked April."

Of course, I fall right into the trap. "Really?"

"Yeah, but I didn't mean this April."

God, I wish I were dead.

I could fool myself into thinking things will get better and knowing me, I'll probably try. I've been to Comerica Park a few times this year already and have gauged the fresh, energetic young faces against the haggard, torn mugs I saw at the end of 2002. They might not have experience or an abundance of talent, but damn it, these guys have spirit.

And then again, today is only game nine of 162.

The fact that this season happens to coincide with my quarter-life crisis isn't helping any either. And yes, I said "quarter-life crisis." I'm 21, single and a Tigers fan. If that's not enough, I'm in my sixth year of college and plan to graduate around the time Detroit brings home its next winning season. The gods surely must be laughing at me.

What happened to baseball in Detroit, and what will it take to restore the roar?

Here's my two cents. Gibby, Tram and Lance are already on the sidelines. Why not call up Lou, Chet and Darrell Evans and toss them a glove as well? Petry and Kaline are always hanging around too. Twenty years later and the golden oldies still couldn't be any worse than the team I'm watching now.

Yes, it is with a heavy heart I admit that my unfailing optimism might finally have faltered. I'll still go to every game I can afford, and will still root for my home team even as my collection of anti-Tigers comics and articles grow (courtesy of my coworkers, of course) to engulf the walls of my tiny desk.

But now I've resigned myself to the fact that at the tender age of three, I might have witnessed my last World Series championship as a Tigers fan.

Will Detroit win a game this month? Perhaps the question should be if a team can really go 0-162. I believe now that if such a feat can be accomplished, my Tigers have a much better shot at it than anyone out there.

But at least then they'll be first at something, right?

Dawn Klemish, Lansing Lugnuts reporter, can't handle too many more Tigers' baseball seasons and would love to hear your suggestions for pain relief. Reach her at klemishd@msu.edu.