Happy Opening Day! Take 3 DETROIT - "Happy opening day," Bobby Valentine says, and then he pauses to reconsider. Third opening day. Yesterday, Japan and today. Happy third opening day. So it is. Baseball spaces out its openers now, but the others feel like spectacles, singular events. Now it really begins, a bunch of games all at once, updates from the out-of-town scoreboard, new beginnings everywhere. There is red-white-and-blue bunting along the railings at Comerica Park, and fans have started pouring in to see their Tigers play Valentine's Boston Red Sox. Up above, an airplane pulls a banner for a Ford dealership. Outside, every street corner seems to be occupied by a different radio station. A man dressed in a tiger costume - like a 6-foot stuffed animal, complete with a tail - begs for autographs near the dugout. He wears the number 68, a championship season here. Hopes are high for another. "This is a fan's day," says Jim Leyland, the Tigers" manager. The atmosphere is set up for them. But we're working as usual. The players greet each other warmly on the field, hugs all around. They are part of the major league fraternity, competitors during the games but otherwise friends. David Ortiz wraps Prince Fielder in an embrace. Miguel Cabrera comes by, and Ortiz lifts up Cabrera's sunglasses, examining the nasty cut on his cheek from a bad-hop ground ball. Some of Fielder's hair is highlighted, and the orange-and-black color looks fitting for a new Tiger. "We're thrilled to have him," Leyland says, and now, officially, Fielder is playing for the team his father starred for in the 1990s. Their relationship is strained, yes, but the connection is unmistakable. "I understood him as a little kid," says the owner, Mike Ilitch, in a rare interview in Thursday morning's Free Press. And I followed him very closely. Connections are everywhere. In Valentine's morning meeting with the press, a well-built Tigers slugger of a different era, Willie Horton, lingers at the door. He tries to get Valentine's attention but fails, and starts to leave. Valentine scans the room for a question, and I catch his eye and nod my chin toward the door. Valentine sees Horton, who is 69, and exchanges a hearty hug. "I played on my last team with him in Seattle," Valentine says, referring to the 1979 Mariners. Great teammate. Great, great teammate. John Henry, the Red Sox owner, has already been in touch Thursday morning, Valentine says, presumably wishing him well. A mentor and close friend, the New Jersey Devils" president, Lou Lamoriello, happens to be in town with his team, and surprised Valentine at dinner with his coaches Wednesday. "It's an amazing thing," Valentine says, and then he notes that a player picked up the tab for dinner. One of Valentine's former players, Orel Hershiser, waits in the Red Sox" clubhouse. Hershiser is here for ESPN, and he was Valentine's starter for the Mets in 1999, the last time Valentine managed against Leyland. One of Hershiser's broadcast partners is Terry Francona, who managed the Red Sox last year until their epic September collapse. Hello, media! Francona says to some writers. "You're media," one of them replies, and Francona groans, "Don't remind me!" Francona and the crew broadcast the Wednesday opener in Miami, arriving here after 2 a.m., but they do not look tired. It is opening day, the real one, and everyone is wide-eyed. Will Valentine be nervous, back as a major league manager for the first time in almost a decade? "I hope so," he says.