AndrewRatner

IN MY basement sits what some of my house guestswould describe as a paint-flaked wooden chair.To me, it's a treasure: the box seat I took from Yan-

kee Stadium at that ballpark's "final game" 18 years ago.I doubt the final baseball game at Memorial Stadium

Sunday will resemble that 1973 season finale before Yan-kee Stadium closed for two years for major renovations.

For Orioles fans craving souvenirs, that'll be too bad.===== My buddies and I left the baU

yard in the Bronx that late Sep-tember afternoon carrying a rowof blue seats we had wrestled fromits concrete pad, and enough out-field turf stuffed in our pockets tosod a small suburban yard.

We weren't strong enough to wrestle the row of seatsout of the stadium and feared we'd never squeeze it on-to the "El" — the elevated subway — for the triphome. So we returned to get single seats. And like thou-sands of other fans that day, we left not by the escala-tors, but through the bullpen via the outfield. Wewalked backward so we could relish the view from Di-Maggio's former patrol.

Our heist was comparatively modest. One unknownfan got second base. Others peeled down signs andpulled hunks of padding off the outfield wall. The nextday's Daily News had a picture of a nun taking somegrass. About 10,000 seats were taken in all, accordingto one estimate after the game, which drew 32,000.

I was too young to appreciate the glories of thepost-war Yankees and, truth to tell, loved the Mets, notthe Bronx Bombers, but for months I had that YankeeStadium sod on the window-sill of my family's ground-floor apartment, looking like brown dried pasta inempty Cool Whip tubs. A city kid, what did I knowabout keeping grass alive? But I cherished my prizefor a long time, and my memories of that day, unlikeany baseball game experience before or since, stillhaven't withered.

Actually, as I recall, the start of that final pre-reno-vation game at Yankee Stadium was a bit frightening.By the third inning of a contest between the Yanksand Detroit that meant nothing to the season's stand-ings, fans around us with all manner of toolsbegan to dismantle the place. When the home team

How do you close a stadium?

started a rally, metallic thunder clapped as fansbanged wrenches off the metal seat frames. (TheYanks lost that day, their manager was fired and theNew York Times speculated that Frank Robinson, stilla player but considered future managerial material,might replace him. He didn't.)

Orioles spokesman Rick Vaughn said the O's plan toraffle off several souvenirs to fans at tomorrow'spenultimate game, including bases, the pennants thatdecorate the stadium roof, Rex Barney's microphoneand clubhouse chairs and locker nameplates signed byvisiting players. Winners will be able to claim theirprizes after the final game.

Weeks ago, someone not inclined to take his chanceon the raffle climbed a chain-link fence at MemorialStadium and stole a hunk of padding from the outfieldwall. Vaughn said the Orioles have held their breath inexpectation of more vandalism and pilfering in the sta-dium's final months, but haven't experienced much. Afew other souvenir shoppers who made post-game for-ays to Memorial Stadium got caught, Vaughn said.

"These [fans] have respect for what really for themare shrines, what this place has become to the city ofBaltimore," Vaughn said.

I expect — in fact, I'm quite sure — that the sceneat 33rd Street Sunday will be much different from myexperience at the House That Ruth Built.

For one thing, Baltimore isn't New York.For another, the chance remains that a new pro

football team would need Memorial Stadium for a fewyears if the city gets a franchise to replace the Colts —not to mention Memorial Stadium's hosting of the an-nual University of Maryland-Penn State footballmatch-up Nov. 9.

Plus, baseball, a mirror of America, is a lot morecommercial than 20 years ago. Now, entrepreneurssell Memorial Stadium infield dirt in engraved jarsand last year, as Chicago's old Comiskey Park was be-ing torn down, its bricks were sold to collectors.

I don't think a baseball team would ever let its fanswalk out of the park with something as valuable as asquare of sod anymore.

Even if you brought your own plastic tubs.Andrew Ratner is an assistant metropolitan

editor o/Tfee Evening Sun.