This is a eulogy for M&T Bank Stadium’s section 142. Section 142 has housed my family since the Ravens first played there in 1998. That’s 26 years, and for me, 18, ever since my first game there in a pink Ray Lewis jersey — I called him “Lew Ravis.”

For 26 years, the Ravens’ Wall of Honor dedicated to permanent seat license (PSL) owners outside the stadium has bore my father’s name. But at the end of this season, Section 142’s first seven rows face demolition. In its place, the Ravens organization plans to construct an exclusive sports bar.

Section 142 sits field-level in the west endzone, close enough to smell the players’ sweat; to the left of the goalpost so you can hear the slap of their hands after a touchdown, and overlooking the gold “M-O” painted within the grass endzone letters “BALTIMORE” to remember the late superfan Mo Gaba. On game days, section 142 floods with purple and black as three generations of Ravens fans drown out the visiting teams who jog up our endzone. Our seats are close enough for the players to hear us and we don’t hesitate to let them know. From our seats, Ravens players aren’t far-off idols. They’re real people we take pictures with and who autograph our jerseys. Just last year during warmups, I played catch with Del’Shawn Phillips in section 142.

But it’s the last season for us Ravens superfans. Next year, according to the Baltimore Ravens website, the organization plans to push our seven rows back, behind the blank expanse of the roof of an indoor sports bar called Champions Club with optional leather seating outside.

Apparently, this space is for PSL owners who want to buy a premium membership for access. But does that sound like something a regular Ravens family would be interested in? No. It sounds like private investment firms willing to shell out hundreds more dollars to butter up their clients with a premium experience. The Ravens’ website says this is all part of an effort to protect our “home field advantage.” By removing their loudest, closest fans for the entire game? Are they serious? I’m not so sure executives using their company tickets to sweet-talk clients are raring to get out there and yell for a flag on the play.

We in section 142 know the Ravens organization is making a big mistake. But we’re powerless to stop it. A Facebook group called Save Our Seats was created to block the change, but the Ravens organization paid no mind. Calls were taken, emails shot off, but no response was given other than politician-like equivocations that we will be moved to seats with a “similar gameday experience” — a standard they can’t promise to uphold. The Ravens organization knows there’s nothing like being up close in the west endzone. That’s why they’re taking it.

So, when game day comes next year, don’t be surprised if the visiting team saunters down to our section like they own the place:

There’ll be no one there to tell them to “turn back now!” When game day comes next year, don’t be surprised if the visiting O-line can hear their quarterback perfectly. Sound doesn’t travel as well seven rows back. When game day comes next year, don’t be surprised that the Ravens organization is milking their hometown fans for all that they’ve got with thousand-dollar field-level seating, expensive new suites with mixologists and pastry chefs, and a new club themed as a 1900s Baltimore bank. What’s more 1% than that?

Now, I know I can’t stop the bulldozers from rolling into section 142 and leveling our seats, but I’d like the section to be memorialized in all its gritty Baltimorean pride — all the people who screamed like it was their personal duty to disrupt the visiting team’s offense; the home-cooked brownies Mr. Rosso’s mom bakes for our section at every home game; front-row-Deb who guards the railing like a real-life raven, purple streak in her hair and homemade posters taped to the sides with puns about Zay Flowers, or Lamar Jackson, or the visiting team’s ignorance as to what happens when you come marching down to section 142. I can’t help but wonder — seven rows back — will the players be able to read her signs?

Because the Ravens organization seems to have forgotten their very own motto — a saying I’ve heard in every “Safety & Evacuation” video at M&T Bank Stadium — the same adage echoed back to them by the stadium crowd and the loyal fans of section 142: Don’t. Be. A. Jerk.

Anna Orner (aeo06@comcast.net) is a student at Hereford High School in Baltimore County.