Can Nolan Ryan Save the Texas Rangers? Again?

Former Rangers manager turned Japan coaching idol Bobby Valentine can attest that Ryan may have lost some velocity, but not his ferocity. Last summer while in Japan promoting U.S. beef, Ryan was asked to throw out the first pitch before a game in which one of Valentine's teams was about to play.

Ryan's wayward fastball buzzed Valentine's head, sending him to the dirt and the crowd into a frenzy. Witnessed the radar gun: 85 mph.

"Well," shrugs Ryan, "I was in front of the rubber."

Despite a verbal delivery that meanders between Texas tough and lazy regionalism—Ryan knows a "thang" or two about "'Merica"—his economical communication transcends barriers. Hicks is absolutely giddy about walking into his first owners meeting with Ryan in tow. And just three days after accepting his new gig, Ryan was at KTCK-1310 AM The Ticket's annual "Ticketstock" carnival in Plano, fielding questions from the fake Nolan Ryan and revealing details about a recent South Texas encounter with wild snow monkeys.

"You think I'm foolin'," Ryan said as the hosts doubled over in laughter, "but it was scary."

During Texas' third exhibition game, also on February 29, Ryan sits in the first row just left of the dugout. Arms folded and legs bouncing, he welcomes the timid advances of both spectators and reporters. You can almost feel his intangibles. When he looks you in the eye with a firm greeting, it's evident you're shaking one of the most gifted right hands in the history of sports. When he thoughtfully answers your questions, you get the feeling it's not total bullshit.

In the seats beside him are Hicks and Daniels, and, for the first time in a long time, the Rangers seem genuinely connected. (Just to keep the hierarchy in check, Hicks has three parking spaces in Surprise, Ryan two and Daniels one.)

"We come from dramatically different backgrounds," Daniels says. "But we share a common vision and passion."

Echoes Hicks, "It's a collaborative effort. We're all partners."

After retiring in '94, Ryan spent 10 years marketing and promoting the Rangers as part of his personal services contract. With his return to Arlington, he promises to be more hands-on decision-maker than ceremonial leader, casually dismissing the "mascot" premise.

Explains Ryan, "That's not who I am."

But how, exactly, will Ryan make an imprint?

Empowered to fire everyone but Hicks, Ryan has instead spent his spring fitting in. He attended a meeting led by baseball commissioner Bud Selig in nearby Scottsdale, schmoozing team sponsors, recording radio advertising spots and familiarizing himself with players and personnel. He brainstormed with Hicks on ways to cattle-prod ticket sales—the result of which was last Saturday's "Select-A-Seat" event in Arlington at which fans got to pick their seats and Ryan's brain. He'll also help with the team's proposed bid to host the 2015 All-Star Game and the construction of Glory Park, Hicks' entertainment development, which will be located near the Cowboys' new stadium just down the street from Rangers Ballpark.

Intermittently, Ryan will poke his head in the clubhouse or, upon invitation from pitching coach Mark Connor, work one-on-one with pitchers.

"He's got a strong desire to not overstep his bounds," Hicks says. "But it'd be stupid to have Nolan Ryan around and not take advantage of him giving tips to our players."

Says Washington, "I guarantee you what he says to our pitchers will be listened to. I'm open to him contributing what he wants, when he wants."

Ryan offering you pitching tips is like Pete Sampras teaching you the mechanics of the serve, Celine Dion showing you how to over-emote or Jenna Jameson suggesting a new position.

"I don't care who you are or what you've done," Rangers starter Brandon McCarthy says. "It's cool to have Nolan Ryan watching you."

Ryan has also treaded lightly in initial interactions with his new employees, acting more as passive observer than wheel re-inventor. When he insisted on meeting each employee individually, taking the time to shake hands, learn their names and get a feel for their positions, Hicks, who routinely skips the Rangers annual holiday party, was taken aback.

"I don't come here with any preconceived ideas about what I want to do," Ryan says. "There's going to be a giant learning curve until I get up to speed. I know this franchise has tried several approaches, none of which has seemed to work too well. I wasn't here when some of the decisions were made and some of the directions taken, so I'm not exactly sure who's responsible for what. For the most part early on, I'll be a great listener. I'll give my opinions later."