Tony Gwynn is expected to announce this afternoon that he will retire after the season, but I prefer to think that he'll always be like the logo friar of the team he's played his entire career -- carrying a couple extra pounds, wearing a warm smile and forever swinging a bat.

	Tony Gwynn was the ultimate craftsman when it came to the art of hitting.

Gwynn's announcement comes barely a week after fellow 1982 rookie and future Hall of Famer Cal Ripken Jr. announced that this will be his final year. Like Ripken's, this announcement was expected. Gwynn played only 36 games last year and underwent his seventh knee surgery. He's played only 16 games this year and is on the disabled list for the second time this season. His announcement will merely make official what everyone has known all year.

Gwynn is retiring with more than 3,000 hits, 18 seasons hitting at least .300, eight batting titles and a career batting average (currently .338) that is the highest since Ted Williams retired. One of the finest hitters we'll ever see, even in this injury-filled season he is batting .333.

But perhaps Gwynn's greatest accomplishment was turning the San Diego Padres into a respectable organization. Prior to Gwynn, the Padres were best known for being owned by hamburger king Ray Kroc and for wearing those brown-and-mustard uniforms that left fans wondering whether they should ask for an autograph or a quarter pounder with cheese.

Gwynn changed all that. Two summers after his rookie season, Gwynn won his first batting title and led the Padres to their first World Series in 1984. Although there were many lean years after that, Gwynn chose to stay in San Diego, slapping out singles, reviewing film more intensely than Roger Ebert, winning batting titles and working to rebuild the club over and over through multiple ownership changes and fire sales. Fourteen years later, he helped bring another World Series to San Diego.

No one ever wore brown so well. Simply put, Gwynn gave San Diego fans someone to cheer.

People rip Gwynn a lot for his weight, and undoubtedly carrying around those extra pounds took a toll on his knees. He might still have another season or two left in him had the Padres only placed a speed bump in the clubhouse buffet line.

But Gwynn's weight is part of what made him so special. Lean, sculpted players are all too common; Gwynn provides something refreshingly different. In this era of creatine and andro, when most players look as if they spend more time in the weight room than in the batting cage, Gwynn looks like one of us.

In some ways, he remains one of us, or as much as any Hall of Famer earning millions of dollars can. He grew up listening to Vin Scully on the radio while keeping score in his notebook and he's never lost that love for the game, even now that he is limping off the field.

No wonder then that while Gwynn is retiring as a player, he's made it very clear that he would like to take over as the San Diego State baseball coach next year. If that's the way it works out -- and how could his alma mater possibly refuse him? -- we need not worry about him going out in a disappointing way.

Because he won't be leaving the game at all. Instead he'll be where he belongs, on a baseball diamond, studying opposing pitchers, teaching a new generation how to hit and giving even more to a sport to which he has already given so much.

Jim Caple is a Senior Writer for ESPN.com.