It was the manager who proposed the first toast, at least in a manner of speaking. Well before the Yankees took the field for their final home game of the regular season, Buck Showalter settled on his own personal tribute to Don Mattingly. In characteristic fashion, the moment was subtle.

The manager called the captain into his office and asked him to carry the lineup card to home plate for the ritual meeting with the umpires and Detroit manager Sparky Anderson. Actually, asked is too mild a word. "That was non-negotiable," Showalter said later after the surrealistic mood of the afternoon had been shattered by a Detroit comeback and an 8-3 defeat that imperiled the Yankees' postseason plans.

"He told me it was an order," Mattingly said. "He said he hadn't ordered me to do anything since he's been here." The first baseman smiled. For one of the few times in his career, he allowed himself mixed emotions after a costly defeat. "I'm glad I did it. I've always admired Sparky from the time he managed the Reds. I grew up 150 miles from Cincinnati."

Since the move was so unexpected and there was no announcement, it caught most of the 34,848 fans by surprise. Only after he had stood in the batter's box for a couple of minutes listening to Anderson tell a story did the customers notice. The spontaneous cheers rose to a crescendo as Mattingly turned toward the dugout and jogged off the field. He touched his cap self-consciously as he disappeared into the dugout.

From that moment on, however, he was the center of attention at Yankee Stadium on a day that began with the promise of an imminent trip to the playoffs and ended with the realization that nothing was guaranteed. Indeed, the Tigers' seven-run rally in the eighth inning against Andy Pettitte, Bob Wickman and Steve Howe increased the odds that this was Mattingly's final game as a Yankee in the Bronx. Certainly, it was in the back of the man's mind as he went to bat for the last time in the bottom of the eighth.

In his three previous appearances, he had flied to leftfield with the bases loaded, grounded to third base with the bases empty and lined to center with runners on first and second, disappointing thousands who had greeted Mattingly with standing ovations and waved signs demanding that he stay with the team. By the time of his fourth at-bat, his eyes were misty from watching management's taped tribute, to the music from "The Natural," that ran between innings on the video board behind the bleachers. The player was the second hitter in the inning.

"It's weird to be on deck watching that," he said later. "It was a weird day from the beginning, even leaving the house, because it has the possibility of being the last game. I'm not planning on this being my last game, by no means. I'm planning to be back here [for the playoffs]."

But just in case this was it, Mattingly offered a reminder to the crowd of the way it was. Already, he had participated in two pickoffs at first base and set up the second with a veteran deke toward the hole that froze speedy Chad Curtis in the sixth inning. But as much pride as the man has in his defense after earning nine Gold Gloves, even he was anxious to do more.

"This is the time of the year when you really notice pitching and defense," he said. Yet, he recalled that when Dion James asked him recently which he valued more, a great defensive play or a big hit, he didn't hesitate. A big hit, of course. In the scheme of things, his double to deep rightfield with one out and no runner on base was more loud than significant. He was stranded by the next two batters but it gave the fans something to take home with them. Mattingly, too.

"It was good to see Donnie get the knock there," Showalter said. "At least, something good happened for him on a day when not much good happened for us. You feel good for all the players when they do something but he's been with [the Yankees] a long time. There's a different emotion there. We all felt it. We're not robots."

In his later years, despite back problems that have limited his production, Mattingly has become to the Yankees what Gil Hodges once represented to the flock in Brooklyn, a steadfast representative of Midwestern values and a man to be cheered at all costs for the way he approached the game. Dodgers fans didn't boo Hodges when he slumped, they prayed for him. Not only does Mattingly play the same position, and with similarly uncommon grace, he also was born in southern Indiana.

"About 25 miles away," Mattingly said, reckoning the distance between Evansville and Princeton. "I heard about him growing up. But he was a little before my time."

Sadly, Mattingly's time appears almost to be up, at least in New York. His five-year contract extension expires at the end of the season and he can see the writing on the wall, even if to others it has been scripted with invisible ink. He believes he's being pushed out. "You don't want to be anywhere where they don't want you," he reiterated yesterday without invoking the name of the owner.

He acknowledged the day was special by having his wife, Kim, fly in from Indiana, without the three children, for the game. "I'm glad she came," Mattingly said later. "We started together here. If this was the last game here, I wouldn't have liked it if she weren't here."

In the best-case scenario, the Yankees will clinch the wild card on the road sometime this week and qualify to host the first two games of the playoffs next Tuesday and Wednesday at Yankee Stadium. Mattingly will have the only reward he has been denied for an exemplary career. As a hedge, however, Showalter said he was saving a copy of the lineup card for the captain.

"I hope it's something I throw out in the garbage," the manager said. Mattingly nodded. "I hope I don't want it," he agreed with all his heart. Joe Gergen

Copyright 1995, Newsday Inc.