KANSAS CITY, Mo. — At a corner deli near his childhood home, Frank White joked with the police major ahead of him in line, discussed roof repairs with a deacon from the Baptist church he has attended for decades, politely declined one fan’s invitation to speak at a coming event and still managed to eat a corned beef sandwich.

Although he is a first-time candidate for public office, name recognition is not a challenge for Mr. White, a retired Kansas City Royals second baseman whose exploits on the baseball diamond earned him eight Gold Gloves and seemingly endeared him to everyone in town.

It has been 24 years since Mr. White last fielded a major-league ground ball, and 29 since he helped his hometown Royals win their only World Series title. But on these streets where he grew up, and in a city where happy sports memories are all too rare, his fame has not faded.

Mr. White, 64, is leveraging that celebrity status as he runs for a seat in the Jackson County Legislature. His campaign yard signs include a picture of a baseball, and many of his supporters seem more eager to reminisce about the Royals’ glory days than chat about local government.

Though one of the best infielders of his generation, Mr. White is perhaps no longer a household name in Milwaukee or Miami. In Kansas City, however, he is still that rare hometown guy who plied his craft locally and then stuck around after retiring.

“He’s an icon in this city — local boy done good,” said Steve Jarboe, who stopped by a campaign fund-raiser at a suburban pizza restaurant to have his yard sign autographed.

Mr. Jarboe, a Republican, said he trusted Mr. White to do right by his constituents and was not bothered by Mr. White’s being a Democrat. Plus, after the November election, Mr. Jarboe said, he plans to keep that yard sign.

However large Mr. White’s athletic past looms over his political present, he is not likely to campaign at Kauffman Stadium, the Royals’ home field. Since being relieved of his duties broadcasting Royals games a few years ago, Mr. White has not been on speaking terms with team executives and, until this month, had stayed away from the ballpark.

Mr. White said he was focused on his post-baseball life and an opportunity to serve the region through grass-roots politics. If elected, he said, he would work to eliminate drug use and bolster the county’s network of parks, including one where a softball complex is named in his honor.

“I don’t owe any political favors,” Mr. White said. “I’m going in clean. I can vote by conscience.”

After years of constant travel, he said, he decided to try his hand at elected office as a way to improve his home county without giving up the freedom to visit his grandchildren or to take a weekend trip to fish for white bass.

Mr. White, of course, has not been elected. But after tripling the vote of his opponent in the Democratic primary, he said he was confident of his chances in this left-leaning county, Missouri’s second-largest by population.

His opponent in the primary, Sherwood Smith, a longtime labor leader and soon-to-retire captain with the Kansas City Fire Department, raised questions during his campaign about Mr. White’s political affiliation. How, Mr. Smith asked, could voters be sure that Mr. White was the lifelong Democrat he claimed to be?

In the general election, Mr. White will face Weldon Woodward, a Republican and an alderman in a rural town of fewer than 100 people. Mr. Woodward believes he can defeat Mr. White by pitching his tax-reform ideas in suburban and rural areas.

“No slight toward Mr. White, but being a baseball player does not necessarily make you a leader,” said Mr. Woodward, who makes his living mowing lawns, scrapping metal and working at Walmart. “I’m well known. I’m not a baseball player. But by the same token, I’m in it to win it.”

Overcoming Mr. White’s hometown credentials, however, could prove tough. Born in Mississippi, Mr. White moved to Kansas City as a boy and played his entire career with the Royals. He lives in the suburbs now, but still owns five lots on the block where he grew up, a slice of Kansas City that is showing signs of resurgence after decades when many businesses and residents left.

Mr. White, who waves to families on porches and greets residents by name in his old neighborhood, said he was growing into his life as a political figure.

“Knocking on doors, I felt uncomfortable at first because it’s dinnertime and you don’t want them to be upset,” Mr. White said.

But as it turned out, plenty of people whose homes he visited wanted to pose for photos or get an autograph. Some even asked for his take on political issues.