As you drive northwest up the once-splendid Monument Avenue in Richmond, Virginia, dismal, poorly tended patches of grass and dying trees mark the places where bronze statues of Confederate leaders Robert E. Lee, J.E.B. Stuart, Stonewall Jackson, Jefferson Davis, and Matthew Fontaine Maury once stood; a little further away you encounter an unlikely sculpture of a bespectacled man holding a tennis racket in one hand and books in the other; a group of children gathered at his feet. This tribute to Arthur Ashe, a Richmond native, and one of the greatest tennis players in history, is a striking memorial to the only black man to win singles titles at Wimbledon, the U.S. Open, and the Australian Open.

Arthur Robert Ashe, Jr., was born in modest, but comfortable circumstances on July 10, 1943. Nobody who saw the small and slender young Ashe would have predicted a lifetime of supreme athletic achievement in the tennis world; starting at age seven, he showed a natural talent that he developed with endless practice, and the guidance of wealthy mentors who taught him the finer points of the game, and the importance of decorum on the court.

Ashe was briefly sidelined from competing with white players, but after an intervention from his patrons, the barriers eventually fell away. A tennis scholarship to the University of California at Los Angeles introduced him to a world far removed from the Confederate capital and gave him a bigger stage on which to display his talents. After graduation, he joined the Army and served a little more than two years.

Even during his service, Ashe continued practicing and teaching tennis; after his honorable discharge, his career took off. Combining a powerful serve and a strategic approach to the game, he piled up victories in the most famous championships; by 1976, he was ranked the second-best player in the world.

And then, three years later, disaster: At 36, while teaching tennis to eager students, he had a heart attack. It was bitterly ironic that a supremely fit athlete should have a bad heart, but it was clear that Ashe was genetically predisposed to cardiac trouble. He was forced to retire from professional tennis in 1980.

The treatment for his heart condition would lead to a far graver disease. A blood transfusion during surgery caused an HIV infection, and he would spend the last decade of his life enduring the ravages of AIDS. He kept his condition secret for as long as possible, until it was revealed in the press. While he was understandably angry about the intrusion, he became an outspoken advocate for AIDS treatment, an opponent of apartheid in South Africa, and a founder of inner-city tennis programs throughout the country. He also published a three-volume study, A Hard Road to Glory: A History of the African American Athlete. In his frenetically busy “retirement” years, he followed the same advice that he had given others about playing sports: “Regardless of how you feel inside, always try to look like a winner. Even if you are behind, a sustained look of control and confidence can give you a mental edge that results in victory.”

Ashe was diffident about his athletic fame. He said, “I don’t want to be remembered for my tennis accomplishments. That’s no contribution to society. That was purely selfish; that was for me.” But he was utterly dominant on the court, because of his natural ability and tremendous focus. As he observed about the game that would make his reputation, “…I just thought it was something fun to do. Later, I discovered there was a lot of work to being good in tennis. You’ve got to make a lot of sacrifices and spend a lot of time if you really want to achieve with this sport, or in any sport, or in anything truly worthwhile.”

Ashe died in New York on February 6, 1993, felled by pneumonia to which AIDS had made him vulnerable. He was not yet 50. His death was mourned by fans around the world, but he was lauded—as he hoped he would be—for his accomplishments off—and—on the court. As he had once said, “Success is a journey, not a destination. The doing is often more important than the outcome.”

Arthur Ashe’s extraordinary achievements were recognized in a flood of posthumous tributes. President Bill Clinton awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom, and said, “Arthur Ashe’s life represents the very best of America, the opportunity to work hard and succeed.” And three years later, that ungainly but memorable statue would take its place on Monument Avenue. In keeping with the wish he had expressed to the sculptor before his death, the books in his right hand were to be held higher than the tennis racket in his left.

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Michael F. Bishop, a writer and historian, is the former executive director of the International Churchill Society and the Abraham Lincoln Bicentennial Commission.