TEAM is the most overused word in sports. A collection of players who wear the same colors, fly the same charter, and turn giddy over the same $50 gift certificate as payment for doing the postgame show does not a team make.

A union of players who make winning decisions instead of stat-padding ones and do it without thinking, that’s a team.

The 1989 Orioles: team. The 2002 Expos: The jury is deliberating.

The ballclubs have at least two things in common. Both were projected to finish in last place and Frank Robinson was given the assignment of trying to prevent that from happening.

Robinson took over for fired Cal Ripken Sr. when the Orioles were 0-6 on the way to 0-21 in 1988. The next year, Robinson had his team in first place “by 7½ games the first week of June” and had them contending to the final weekend of the season.

It was done once. It can be done again. It’s not impossible for the Expos to contend in such a balanced division as the National League East, as long as they don’t believe it’s impossible.

“This team has more talent,” Robinson said.

Yet, he said, it would be more shocking if the 2002 Expos contended than the shock of ’89.

“Not only because of the odds on the field, but because of what’s going on around this ballclub and the limitations placed on this ballclub,” Robinson said.

Why else?

“Attitude,” Robinson said. “I’m not saying these guys have bad attitudes. They don’t. They have good attitudes. What I mean is that team had that nobody believes in us and we’re going to show them they’re all wrong attitude. Roland [Hemond] went out and got a bunch of bargain players and they came together.

“The crowds got to the point they would give ovations for sacrifice bunts. They were a special team. They were all cut from the same cloth.”

Not right away.

“We hemmed and hawed for the first month-and-a-half of the season,” he remembered. “We couldn’t put two games together and we were still right there because nobody got hot.”

Sounds a little like the 2002 National League East. Two games separated first place from last, going into yesterday’s schedule.

The division is prime for a long-shot contender, even one from a franchise on death row, nervously waiting for a stay of execution from Washington, D.C.

Today, it just so happens the team that plays together best the way Robinson’s ’89 Orioles did also happens to be the team with the most talent, the Yankees.

For the Expos to contend and keep alive the fantasy of a five-team race would require the players to play the game the way Robinson did. In 1956, he tied the rookie record for home runs (38) and set it for times hit by a pitched ball (20). He was a vocal leader as well with encouragement and criticism alike.

If Vladimir Guerrero had Robinson’s intangibles, he would be on the way to matching Robinson’s career. He does not, of course, as he showed by sticking his rear end out on a pitch that was called Strike 3 with the bases loaded in the Expos’ six-run third inning.

At such times, Guerrero appears oblivious to the count. He’s not alone. It frustrates Robinson to see hitters not using different approaches based on whether they are ahead, behind, even or especially battling with two strikes.

This team would have to become a throwback to match the ’89 Orioles.

Nobody had to remind Robinson he is managing in the 21st century when he told a player he was being sent to the minor league side during spring training and the player asked, “I have 72 hours to report, right?”

Robinson answered, “Yes, you have that right, but since you’re right here, it sure would be nice if you did it right away.”

The player answered, “I’m taking the day off,” on his way to an idle day in the Florida sun.