It was a milestone that used to mean something.

Jim Thome blasted two home runs Tuesday night to reach 600 longballs in his career, yet there was little drama leading up to the feat.

Only eight players in Major League Baseball history have done it — only five if you toss out the dudes who had steroids or some other PED (allegedly) coursing through their veins.

More players have won a World Series title in both leagues, more players belong to the 30-30 club and more players have hit 500 career home runs while posting a better than .300 batting average.

Yet as Thome approached the milestone, there was very little pomp and circumstance.

Perhaps it is because the home run has been stained by a decade of distrust spawned by steroids. Perhaps it is because Thome toiled for most of his career in the midwest and has never won a World Series.

Perhaps it is because Thome is not flashy. He doesn’t have wacky facial hair, a tattoo on his neck or face or a slow home run trot.

That makes him boring.

But Thome is one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met in baseball.

I was lucky enough to cover the Cleveland Indians in 1995. Thome was a young third baseman on a team that was on the way to winning 100 games in shortened season.

With combative personalities in the clubhouse like Manny Ramirez, Eddie Murray and Tony Pena (who once rejected an interview request from me because it was “his day off”), Thome was the guy reporters flocked to after a game.

Many times, he stood there for 30 minutes or more as reporters tossed questions at him like Randy Johnson fastballs.

It was one of those typical postgame nights when a reporter confined to a wheelchair rolled up to Thome after the throng of reporters had departed.

He could not write and his recorder had malfunctioned. The reporter explained his dilemma to Thome and asked him — quite nervously — if he could write out the answers to his questions.

Thome grabbed a pen and a notepad, sat down in front of his locker and said, “Shoot.”

Thome wrote out the answers to every question that reporter asked and then said jokingly, “I hope you can read my writing.”

It blew me away.

Later in the season I was on the field before a game when a rain storm blew in. I sought refuge in the Indians’ dugout to wait out the storm.

Most of the players had gone into the clubhouse, but Thome remained, sat down next to me and asked, “So, what do reporters do during rain delays?”

I answered, “Pretty much the same thing players do, I guess. Wait. Except we don’t have an underground batting cage.”

Thome laughed and we struck up a conversation. I forgot I was talking to a major leaguer. He was just another guy waiting out the rain.

That, I think, pretty much sums up Thome: he’s just another guy, but another guy with 600 home runs and a certain spot in Cooperstown.

Mike Kilroy is a staff writer for the Butler Eagle.