By John Erardi
The Cincinnati Enquirer

Frank Robinson

In the spring of 2002, when Crosley Terrace was a vacant spot in front of the under-construction Great American Ball Park, Montreal Expos manager Frank Robinson was asked what it meant to him that a statue in his honor would one day be unveiled there.

"The statue probably means more to me than my number being retired," he said. "... How many people - I don't care what they've done for a ballclub - have a statue in their honor at the ballpark? That is very special, very warm."

Today, the former Reds great will see that statue first-hand when it is unveiled in a 5:45 p.m. ceremony at Crosley Terrace.

Today is the opening of a three-game series with the Expos, the final homestand this season.

Perhaps it is appropriate that Robinson's statue is the last of three statues to be unveiled this season. (Catcher Ernie Lombardi, the fourth and final statue, will be unveiled next season.)

Nothing against Ted Kluszewski ("waiting on deck," dedicated Opening Day) and Joe Nuxhall ("pitching," dedicated July 20). But the focal point of baseball action is the hitter, and "FRobby" is perhaps the greatest to hitch up the Reds stirrups.

"He had unique style," recalled sports historian Kevin Grace. "He was fearless, always leaning in, never afraid of anything - opposing pitchers, infielders trying to take his head off, or anybody else trying to undermine what he was trying to accomplish."

Over Robinson's 10 seasons as a Red (1956-1965), he averaged .303, 32 home runs, 32 doubles, 5 triples, 101 RBI, 104 runs and 16 stolen bases in 150 games. He was famous for crowding the plate, getting back up after being knocked down, belting long drives and making hard slides into second base to break up double plays.

"He was maybe the greatest all-around talented player the Reds ever had," said Steve Wolter, owner of Sports Investment Inc. in Montgomery. "Nothing against (Pete) Rose and (Johnny) Bench, but Rose didn't have a lot of power and Bench couldn't steal a base."

By his own admission, Robinson wasn't easy for his teammates to get close to, but they were glad he was on their team. No. 20 did have a lighter side, however, especially with his buddy, Vada Pinson. In the book The Long Season, author Jim Brosnan, a teammate, recalls Pinson sprinting around the bases after hitting a home run: "Robby shakes Vada's hand when he gets to the bench and says, 'Little man, you just better stick to singles and leave the long ones to us cats who know how to act 'em out.' "

Maybe the best photograph of Robinson at bat is the one that shows him at the beginning of his stride: back knee turned slightly inward, front heel off the ground, chin just above his lead shoulder, bottom hand choked up slightly on the bat.

It will be interesting to see how sculptor Tom Tsuchiya unleashed that coil and showed Robinson's bat meeting ball. Late last April, when Tsuchiya hauled a one-fourth scale model of his work-in-progress to Milwaukee to show to Robinson, the first thing Robinson said was that his hips and thighs were "too wide" and the butt was "too big."

"I thought it was funny, especially coming from a guy," recalled Tsuchiya. "But he was right. I'd spent a lot of time looking at photographs and watching footage of him swinging, but those things can be deceptive. When he said what he did, it connected with what I'd heard about his 'pencil-thin legs.' Otherwise, he was pleased to see the power in the swing."

In 1965, Robinson had a typical season (33 HR, 113 RBI, 109 runs, .296), but the Reds needed pitching. General manager Bill DeWitt, calling Robinson an "old 30," traded him to the Baltimore Orioles for pitchers Milt Pappas, Jack Baldschun and outfielder Dick Simpson. Robinson won the Most Valuable Player award and Triple Crown in 1966 and led the Orioles to four World Series, winning two rings.

In 1994, when Robinson visited Cincinnati to promote the turning in of old eyeglasses for use by underprivileged persons, he referred to himself as "an old 59."

Today, when the cover is lifted off the statue, Robinson won't be an "old 68." He'll be what he was in 1965 - a young 30, lashing a pitch off the 57-foot high scoreboard at Crosley Field.