He made it to the bigs, Billy Gardner did, maybe the first of his kind from our corner of the world. A big leaguer. Our guy. And yet this local guy makes good story began and ended with the concept of “local guy.”

Billy Gardner was one of us. Forever and ever, amen.

“Even the day the Twins let him go,” Gardner’s son, Billy Jr. was saying earlier this week from his home in Westlake, Ohio, “my dad said, ‘it’s their decision. Now I get to go home. What could be better than going home?’”

Billy Gardner, a major leaguer with six different teams and manager of the Twins and Royals, died earlier this month. The man affectionately known as “Slick” was 96. Nobody else ever brought more acclaim to our little hamlets.

“My dad loved southeastern Connecticut and its people,” Gardner Jr. said. “He loved local gin mills, playing cards, solving the world’s problems, a shot and a beer.”

Gardner, born in New London and raised in Waterford, made his big league debut with the New York Giants in 1954, the year the Giants won the World Series. He later played for the Orioles, Washington Senators, Twins, Yankees and Red Sox until he retired in 1963. Gardner finished 12th in the MVP voting in 1957 with the Orioles.

Gardner managed the Twins from 1981-85, nurturing the careers of Kent Hrbek, Kirby Puckett and Frank Viola, the backbones of two World Series champions. He later managed the Royals in 1987.

“A caring, great dad,” Gardner Jr. said. “Comfortable in his own skin. Never really let anything faze him. I remember when he was managing, he was able to lead the guys and play cards with them, too. He could talk to anybody.”

Gardner Jr., now a 20-year minor league manager (currently with Miami’s Class A affiliate in Beloit, Wis.) grew up playing American Legion baseball for Jim O’Neill and the New London teams that won by habit. His forays with dad mostly came when the Twins came to Fenway or Yankee Stadium.

“That’s when we would catch up,” Gardner Jr. said. “It’s an incredible childhood getting to walk out of the third base dugout and see Fenway, play catch with your dad on the field.”

And yet the real Billy Gardner was about when the games ended. In those days, major league players and managers weren’t paid the gross national product of a small country. They had to work in the offseason. Billy Gardner came home. He sold steaks for a place called Norwich Beef.

“He pumped gas, worked at E.B., he always had a job,” Gardner Jr. said. “The season would end and he’d come home. The next day, a sport coat and slacks and off he went selling steaks and hamburgers.”

Somewhere along the way, Gardner earned the nickname “Slick.”

“Billy knew his way around a pool cue,” O’Neill said. “I think he did well on the road shooting pool against people who didn’t know him.”

Gardner Jr. chuckled at that, saying that “Slick” might have also come because his dad was always dapper and dressed well or perhaps because he was slick with the glove at second base.

“My dad said he could turn the double play in a phone booth,” Gardner Jr. said.

Gardner’s sense of humor was like his American Express Card. He never left home without it. Just ask Gene Ryan, the retired assistant principal at Waterford High, who recalled a story written about Gardner in Sports Illustrated.

“Billy goes to take the pitcher out,” Gene The Dean said, “and asks the pitcher if he’s tired. The pitcher says ‘no.” Billy goes ‘yeah, but the outfielders are.’”

Billy Gardner lived at a Super 8 during the seasons in Minnesota, rooming with Johnny Podres. He never needed much or asked for much. Except to come home.

“He never forgot New London,” O’Neill said. “He was a Major League mainstay. I don’t think you can understate the significance of both those things.”

This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro