PLENTY OF KICK LEFT

His back still hurt, even after nearly three weeks on the disabled list. He had lasted five innings in his first start since his return. He knew he had to do better on his second.

He just had no idea how good he would be.

"A no-hitter," he said, "was the furthest thing from my mind."

Ryan's sixth no-hitter on June 11, 1990, against the Athletics in Oakland was among his most difficult. He had an appointment with a back specialist scheduled for the next day. Only in 1975, when a sore right elbow couldn't keep him from throwing his fourth, did he feel less capable.

The fifth no-hitter meant more because it broke Sandy Koufax's record. He had his best stuff in the second. The seventh, to come in 1991, would symbolize his triumph over age.

The sixth? Just a pain.

The years since his first no-hitter as a Ranger have dimmed its significance. It gave him more solace then, when he thought it probably was his last. It eased some of the pain in his back and, perhaps, some caused by the loss of his mother, who died unexpectedly in January.

Besides the no-hitter, he also would win his 300th game in 1990. But at least he could see that milestone coming.

He was in no shape to throw a no-hitter early in 1990. Of his nine starts, he had finished only one. He was 0-3 with an 8.86 earned-run average in his five starts leading up to June 11.

He had started only once since coming off the disabled list. A stress fracture in his lower back removed him from the starting rotation from May 18 through June 6. He wasn't much better when he came back. He went through a series of gyrations on the mound between pitches in Oakland, attempting to work out his kinks. His 14-year-old son, Reese, sat next to him in the dugout, massaging his back, encouraging him. He needed it.

He never looked more uncomfortable, at least until the possibility of the no-hitter loomed closer.

"He had some trouble with his back early," said John Russell, who caught Ryan that night for the first time. "But then he started getting stronger."

Ryan's fastball started out in the high-80s. By the sixth, it was in the mid-90s, where it stayed. He had no curveball, really, so he rarely threw it. Of his 132 pitches, 93 were fastballs, and 22 were changeups.

All 14 of his strikeouts came swinging.

The A's couldn't believe a man his age could be so overpowering, though his victims did not include Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire, who were injured.

"There were guys in the old-timers' game here Sunday who are younger than Nolan," Oakland pitcher Dave Stewart said after the game. "To do that (throw a no-hitter) at any age is something. To do it at 43 is amazing.

"And don't give me that stuff about a bad back."

The back was bad, though. And Ryan had to make the adjustment to a new catcher during the game.

John Russell was typical of the seven catchers who caught Ryan' s no-hitters. Only Jeff Torborg was considered above-average. Most of the rest were reserves.

Russell almost wasn't a catcher at all in 1990. Two months before he caught Ryan's no-hitter, Russell was in Philadelphia. He wasn't playing anymore, though he had a history with the Phillies. He was coaching outside Philadelphia in 1990, helping out at a high school, hoping for another shot at playing.

He got it with the Rangers. When catchers Geno Petralli and Mike Stanley went out with injuries, Russell became a starter. The first time he caught Ryan was on June 11.

"I think, as the game went on, we got into a groove," Ryan said of his working relationship with Russell. "If he got wrapped up in it, he sure didn't show it."

The game, in which Russell hit a home run, remains the highlight of his career. He had others. Besides Ryan, he also caught the game' s second-most prolific strikeout pitcher, Steve Carlton.

"They both had the highest level of concentration I've ever seen in pitchers," Russell said.

Ryan's concentration was tested a month after his sixth no-hitter, as he closed in on 300 victories. The closer he came, the greater the scrutiny. By the time he got to Milwaukee on July 31 for a game against the Brewers, he was dragging a chain of friends, family and media.

He got the victory in Milwaukee, when the Rangers backed him up with 11 runs, including Julio Franco's grand slam in the ninth inning.

Ryan, exhausted by the attention given his effort, didn't seem exhilarated. He said he was relieved it was over, that he could go back to being another pitcher in the rotation. More than 250 media had credentials for the Milwaukee game. The crowd of 51,533, which gave him a three-minute standing ovation at game's end, included 40 family members and friends brought in by Ryan.

His mother, Martha, was not one of them.

She had stopped going to games during his last years in Houston. It was hard to make the long walks from the parking lot to her seat. But her health, particularly for a 76-year-old woman, was good in January 1990, or so the family thought.

Ryan was in the Dallas area the night before his mother died at her home in Alvin. He talked to her by telephone, as he had every other day. His sister, Jean, called on the days he didn't.

"She hadn't been sick at all," Ryan said of his mother. "The day she died, she made her bed, then made her coffee. We assume she wasn' t feeling well because she went back and laid down. Then she just passed away."

His mother's death still seems to catch him off-guard, as if it were a mystery he couldn't solve. His father had died 20 years earlier of cancer. He expected it. He wasn't prepared for his mother's death.

"I drive by the street where we lived," he said, "and naturally your thoughts go back to her. It's like something is missing in your life.

"It's real hard."

The sentiment was expressed without a waver. Not even a blink. Over the years, Ryan's emotions have been as consistent as his fastball. He once said when asked to explore his feelings about his father's death that it was something he didn't share. Or couldn't, perhaps.

His mother's death seemed to have the same lock on his emotions. Of course, he was no more effusive about his no-hitter, either.