CINCINNATI -- Sparky Anderson was asked to put some perspective on having his number retired by the Reds, and he began to wax poetic about the great coaching staff he had to work with.

Well, "wax poetic" is a nice way of saying Anderson rambled a bit.

"Do you even remember what the question was?" Johnny Bench turned and asked his former manager after a couple minutes.

Laughter erupted in the press conference that took place before Saturday's ceremony at Great American Ball Park.

The 71-year-old Anderson, as successful at telling elaborate stories as he once was at winning baseball games, had become lost in a public stream of consciousness.

But as far as Joe Morgan was concerned, Anderson deserved the right to get lost.

"Why question Sparky?" Morgan said to Bench with a laugh. "If he wants to ramble, let him do it. It's his day."

It was Sparky's day, indeed. Because this was the day his No. 10 became the eighth number retired by the Reds, an organization steeped in tradition.

Anderson admitted that when he heard that the team would retire his number, he cried. Because as much as he was honored to be inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in the summer of 2000, this occasion somehow meant a little bit more.

"When you think about it, nobody can ever wear that number again," he said. "That's amazing to me. And the most amazing part is that in 130-some years -- the oldest franchise -- that's only the eighth number retired. My God. I've never heard of such a thing like that. I know there's got to be eight guys in that time who were pretty good."

But Anderson was pretty good at what he did, too.

From 1970-78, he led the legendary "Big Red Machine" to an 863-586 record, five National League West titles, four pennants and World Series championships in '75 and '76.

"He was just as important as any player on those teams," Morgan said. "I know John and I won MVPs, but Sparky was an MVP, too."

And to think, when Anderson arrived in Cincinnati in 1970, the media generally referred to him as "Sparky Who?"

No one could have imagined he'd go on to become the Reds' all-time leader in wins (863) and percentage (.596), or that he'd become the only manager in baseball history to win a World Series in both leagues.

No one, that is, except his players, who gained instant respect for Anderson's managerial style.

"For us, it's an honor to know he made us better," Bench said. "And he allowed us the privilege to play at a level that was the absolute peak of professionalism."

That was Bench's nice way of saying that Anderson and his staff, which included third-base coach Alex Grammas and bench coach George Scherger, both of whom were in town for Saturday's ceremony, stayed out of the players' way.

But that's not to say "The Main Spark" couldn't be fiery on occasion.

Anderson remembered a particularly heated incident when he was managing in the Minors, and an argument over a call resulted in him putting his hands around the neck of an unsuspecting umpire.

"I was nuts!" Anderson said wildly. "But I finally grew up. I realized when I put my hands on him that I might be done [in baseball]. He came and saw me after the game and said, 'I bumped you first. Let's just forget the whole thing and start over tomorrow.' And I said, 'You ain't got no worries about that!'"

Though his managing days are done, Anderson still follows the game closely. Every morning, he takes an hour and a half walk around the campus of California Lutheran University, near his home in Thousand Oaks, Calif., then comes home to eat breakfast and read the sports page.

He'll watch a game, now and then, but with little emotion.

"I get no pleasure from watching," he said. "For this reason: If I'm not going to be in the war, and you're not going to shoot bullets at me, I'm not going to enjoy it. I'm only going to enjoy it if you're shooting bullets at me, and I'm shooting grenades back at you."

Baseball might be in the background now, but Anderson, who joined Fred Hutchinson (1), Bench (5), Morgan (8), Ted Kluszewski (18), Frank Robinson (20), Tony Perez (24) and Jackie Robinson (42) in having his number hung below the press box at Great American Ball Park, still feels blessed for the life the sport gave him.

He said he was especially blessed to have managed in Cincinnati.

"My life is so good for so many things that happened before 1970," he said. "But 1970 set off a bomb. This is it. This is the ultimate city to manage in."

Which makes it the ultimate city to have a number retired, in Anderson's opinion.

"It's a hard time to go through," he admitted. "But it's worth every moment. If you've never worn a Reds uniform, you didn't play in the big leagues. Baseball here is just different. The fans might get mad here, but when they're mad, they'll never stop loving the Reds."

And they'll never stop loving Anderson, rambles and all.