If Sunday was Ken Griffey Jr.’s last game as a member of the Seattle Mariners, maybe even as a baseball player, then it was a fitting celebration for the man who helped save a moribund franchise and turn it into the modern Mariners we know today.

Whether it was the numerous standing ovations he received — the final one after he was lifted from the game after hitting a single in the eighth inning, causing him to bite his lip and fight back tears — the countless hugs that were given to him that did cause him to weep, or being carried on the shoulders of his teammates around Safeco Field, it all seemed perfectly surreal.

“A whole lot of love,” he said, his eyes still red from tears. “A whole lot of feeling of support, I don’t know how to describe it. It’s unbelievable.”

He wasn’t the only one feeling that emotion.

“In all the years I’ve been in this game, I don’t know if I’ve ever been as emotional as when Griffey came off that field and into the clubhouse,” Mariners manager Don Wakamatsu said.

It’s hard to quantify what Griffey did for the Mariners. In his first stint, from 1989 to 1999, he made baseball cool and relevant in Seattle. In his return, he brought back a sense of place and history, and a leadership presence that had been missing.

Sure, his on-field production wasn’t spectacular. He hit .214 in 387 at-bats, with 19 homers and 57 RBI. He led the team in walks with 63 and had a .324 on-base percentage. It’s not the type of production a team wants from a designated hitter.

But everybody associated with the Mariners insisted Griffey’s contributions went beyond the field and into the clubhouse.

“I really thought there would be a degree of leadership that Kenny would bring,” Mariners general manager Jack Zduriencik said. “We thought he would be somewhat of an offensive producer for us. But what he did in that clubhouse, and what he did with his presence, I think goes beyond what any of us expected.”

Griffey made Wakamatsu’s job as a rookie manager much easier, policing the clubhouse while still keeping the team loose.

“Its amazing after all he’s done in this game, it seems like it’s the first game every day he steps on that field,” Wakamatsu said. “He has fun. He’s infectious to his teammates, he’s such a breath of fresh air, and again when you go through a tough series or a blown save, he’s in there smiling the next day and it helps maintain that levity.”

Still, while Sunday’s postgame celebration and Griffey’s tears made it seem like it was a farewell, he was non-committal on his future. He’s never said he’s retiring, and he’s never said he’s coming back.

“I have to go back, talk to my family and find out what’s best for all of us,” Griffey said.

Family is important to Griffey. During the season, he caught a charter flight home to see his son play football, and he had oldest son, Trey, accompany him on several road trips.

“I have a 15-, 13- and 7-year-old. Those are big reasons,” Griffey said when asked about reasons not to come back. “But I think they were OK with it. Trey really liked it because he traveled with me and things like that. But to not come back, I don’t have a reason. I have no reason not to.”

It wasn’t exactly a decisive statement. Now the feeling is growing that he would like to return. And he offered some minor hints.

“A lot of it is just the direction the team is going,” Griffey said. “With Jack and Don, I think it’s going to be a lot of fun for years to come. Whether I’m in the plans or not, I think the people of Seattle should be very proud of what we accomplished this year and look forward to spring and hopefully we can do a little better.”

That’s the other thing to consider — whether or not the Mariners want him back. From a public relations standpoint, bringing him back is a good thing. Perhaps Griffey didn’t bring the huge crowds some expected, but he certainly helped maintain the attendance in the midst of a failing economy.

Fans, for the most part, want him to return. Chants of “one more year, one more year” echoed around Safeco on Sunday.

Wakamatsu admitted it would be difficult to replace the leadership Griffey brought to the team.

However, from a purely baseball standpoint, it might not make sense to bring him back in his current role. His production was far below that of the top designated hitters in the American League. And after the team’s offensive struggles, Seattle can ill afford to miss production from a power spot like the designated hitter.

Realistically, the best scenario for the Mariners to bring Griffey back would be if he took on a lesser role with the team, a role similar to that of fellow veteran Mike Sweeney. Griffey would play two to three times a week at DH, and come off the bench as a pinch hitter.

But would a first-ballot Hall of Famer want to be the 25th man on a 25-man roster?

Griffey has played the game at its highest level and been one of its best competitors. How could he suddenly be willing to be a bench player? And why would he miss that time away from his family to be a bench player?

Many decisions have to be made by both the Mariners and Griffey before they make the ultimate decision on his return. Until they do, it’s best to just enjoy and remember the return for what it was.

“They gave me a chance to do something I wanted to do, which is come back,” Griffey said. “I can’t thank the organization enough for that.”