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The Texas Rangers went 23 years in Arlington Stadium without a playoff game or a no-hitter; in fact nothing much happened at Arlington Stadium. Typically, by the time the dog-days of summer hit the metroplex in July, the Rangers had long since given up the AL West division and played merely because their loyal faithful showed up each night.
Nolan Ryan changed all that because after signing in December 1988; he brought to the team a winning persona and the fearlessness of a hired gun. He was the natural icon for a team of western heroes called rangers, and one night in 1991, he mastered the game as if overcoming evil on the plains of the west. It was even more impressive because it was tossed with such dominance by a 44-year old pitcher, who was managed that night by a younger, former teammate, Bobby Valentine.
The baseball felt like a tiny marble in his hands. “It’s so dang hot tonight, my God I am going to sweat out 10 pounds!” Feeling old after only 4 days rest from his previous start, his fingers tossed the bullet up and down in one hand as he focused on the seams, “the ball feels just right tonight, it fits well in my fingers.”
The seams felt genuine on the pads of his index and middle finger of the right hand. The early innings proved easy for Nolan Ryan against the 1st place Toronto Blue Jays on this balmy summer night of May 1, 1991.
“I see Mike’s glove so clearly, I’m throwing softly and yet it appears to be smoking to the plate.” He stood on the mound, slightly above the action, menacingly beaming down toward the batter, yet innately relaxed, simply doing his job, pitch-by-pitch, man-versus-man. Tonight Nolan was unhittable, in the "zone."
“Man, the pop of the glove is nice tonight. These guys are watching a lot of my pitches go past them. They’re in trouble.” Tall and lanky like a gunslinger with a Colt revolver tied to his leg, Nolan Ryan was the game’s strikeout king in part out of fear; his reputation for fast pitches, grim face, and intimidating glare just fueled the competitive advantage.
“I’m just a regular guy, but up here on the mound is like being on stage; I play the part of Wild Bill Hickok, Buffalo Bill Cody, or Wyatt Earp: one against all.” Nolan Ryan’s fans pictured him as the humble man who shot Liberty Valence, the meanest gunslinger in the western division. His persona was perfect as the “Lone Ranger” willing to go fearlessly into a gunfight, white hat versus black hat, looming down on the villain from higher ground.
Almost 34,000 fans were as tightly strung as the batter’s shoelaces and after the fifth inning, with just 12 batters left to retire without a hit given up, tension was thick, crowd noise deafening, and every pitch hung like a jury verdict.
The hitters’ success showed the audience the possibility of a no-hitter, although involuntarily: if his fastball came at the batter like a bullet, the curveball like a ball rolling off of a table, it was the change-up that did the most embarrassing damage because it made the hitter look so irresolute and feeble. Victims of this deception literally skipped out of the box when the same arm-motion produced a pitch only 10% slower; it was illusory, magical, and corruptible.
Pop, the ball slapped leather! “How’d you like that one Ro-Bert-Oh?” He had played with Alomar's father in California. “Another strikeout; dude, this game is going fast…” “Everyone is freaking out, but they forget that I’ve done this six times,” said Mr. Ryan, a modern Paladin.
Those of us lucky enough to watch the game in-person were as nervous as the players in his dugout, disparaging of any spectator who openly discussed the possibility of Nolan Ryan perfecting his 7th career no-hitter that night. We were close enough to see the Rangers walk away from Nolan when he sat down heavily to rest between innings on the bench. Baseball superstition is that one’s teammates must not acknowledge what is happening (possible no-hitter) for fear of “jinxing” the performance; while at the same time being in the precarious position of occupying the same dugout. The stadium grew louder as the team bench grew solemn; everyone stood for the last two innings.
Ryan’s 7 no-hitters are bestowed generously on 7 different catchers, many with forgettable careers: Jeff Torborg, Art Kusnyer, Tom Egan and Ellie Rodriguez of the California Angels; Alan Ashby of the Houston Astros; and John Russell and Mike Stanley of the Texas Rangers. Stanley drove a Coca-Cola delivery truck before he got the opportunity to play MLB again. “My legs are killing me but the shoulder feels clean as a whistle,” Ryan thought as he walked back to the mound after 24 batters failed to get a hit. “I am actually just getting warmed up!”
The noise in the ballpark reached a crescendo as the Rangers tried to complete three more outs in the top of the ninth inning, leadingToronto by the score of 3-0. No tallies on the old scoreboard, previously used in Turnpike Stadium; up to this point, it was the biggest moment in Arlington TX baseball history. Three more outs without a hit, and the Rangers host their first no-hitter. Certainly through the years, the Ballpark, and two World Series appearances, other successes have surpassed this moment, but I don't see how; for the fledgling Rangers this was the apex of attention, and a national TV audience looked on. Even Rickey Henderson's earlier record base-stealing day was eclipsed by the great Nolan Ryan.
The noise in the ballpark reached a crescendo as the Rangers tried to complete three more outs in the top of the ninth inning, leading
There was a single play to center field that gave the fans a small fright, but after the ball was caught and thrown back to the infield, Nolan took it back to his glove where it belonged, again he casually tossed it in the air with his pitching hand, catching it and looking at it like they were having a conversation. “I am going to toss you like a sunflower seed, flicking you off of my fingers with blinding speed,” thinking to himself; he had the natural ability to shut out all the sound and concentrate on the pitch.
EachToronto batter struggled not to get down 2 strikes to this Jedi master on the mound, that count meant an insurmountable advantage for the ace. Even casual fans could see him dominating the line-up of opposing hitters. Most of the tension was with the defensive backfield to Nolan Ryan, “I don’t want one of these kids to have to live down losing me a no-hitter,” Nolan thought humbly, “Lord, if I can just throw it across the plate here for three more batters, this is gonna be a huge party!”
Each
By the end of the final inning Nolan Ryan was just throwing red-hot heat at the Blue-Jays, blatantly challenging them to guess which of his three pitches he would offer, by occasionally throwing a pitch besides the fastball. It was Russian roulette for the Blue Jays. Fans chanted, "No-lynn, No-lynn!" over and over again. After the final out, there was bedlam.
“These fans have been so supportive of me even though I am older than dirt,” Nolan said after the game, “it was extra special to do it in front of the home folks.”
[Author’s note: I was present at the game on May 1, 1991. Greatest sports moment for me, indeed! All quotes by Nolan Ryan are fictional]
©Mark H. Pillsbury
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