Steve Swisher was my hero.

Most of you probably don't remember Swish, but from 1974 to 1982 he was a Major League catcher for the Chicago Cubs, St. Louis Cardinals and San Diego Padres.

Even though Swisher was the Cubs' representative to the 1976 All-Star game, his nine year career in the majors was unassuming, and for the most part unimpressive, especially if you measure it using the standards by which Hall of Famers are measured.

To a kid growing up down the street from his home in Parkersburg, West Virginia, he was larger than life. He was a king. He was my hero. I wanted to be Steve Swisher, and the fact that he took the time to play catch with me and my brother when he was home on break only furthered that desire. 

Swisher’s career ended too quickly for those of us who spent mornings eating cereal and looking for his statistics in the newspaper. He stayed in baseball though, coaching first at the minor league level, and eventually landing a job as the bullpen coach of the New York Mets.

Although I was older, and I no longer had that same childish enthusiasm, I still followed Swish's career. Respect replaced hero worship as he won awards and his teams won games. It was thrilling to know that a guy from my home town was accomplishing things most boys, and men for that matter, can only dream of.

Then, he quit.

Gave it up.

Walked away.

I was stunned, and in a way I was hurt. I felt like he had somehow let down not only me, but the city of my youth. What could cause a man to just up and leave a high paying job that many people would dream of having?

For Swisher the answer was easy -- family. He had sons back in West Virginia, and he wanted to be there for them. Forget New York, give Swish Parkersburg.

He left the New York Mets and took the job of leading the local rookie team. Instead of watching the grounds crew, he was the grounds crew, and the manager, and I imagine he would have sold concessions if they had asked him to.

My father would tell me about driving by the field and watching this man who was used to the finer things in life actually dragging the field, setting the bases in place and lining the base paths. No more televised games, no more fancy hotels on road trips.  No more young boys dreaming of being Steve Swisher someday. He gave it up.  All for family.

Eventually, Swisher’s kids grew up. Nick went to college and played baseball, getting drafted by the Oakland A's. He’s considered one of their top young talents and had a solid year this season.

Mark went down a different path, playing football and studying criminal justice at Fairmont State University. Both have made their old man proud.

Swisher ended his seven year hiatus from baseball by accepting the managerial job for the Reading Phillies. I am confident that it won't be long before he once again finds himself coaching in "the show," maybe this time he'll be asked to manage. When that happens I will more than likely find myself once again following his career, cheering for his team.

The respect that comes with the hometown boy making good has returned, and Swisher is once again Parkersburg's favorite son. As a baseball fan, I'm proud of what he continues to accomplish.

It's what Swish has done off the field that amazes me most. In a day when it seems the majority of professional athletes hold themselves in high esteem, hold out for more money and speak of themselves in the third person, along came a man who put his family above his love for the game. As a father of three, I can only hope that if I'm ever in a similar circumstance I'll make the same decision.

Family first. That was the choice Swisher made, and for making that choice he is once again my hero.