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H O M E

WILD FOR RYAN

Endorsements outnumber wins as Ranger's popularity grows

09/26/93

By Kevin Sherrington

Critics used to knock Nolan Ryan because he was wild and won only half his games.

He's not so wild anymore. But he still can't win, at least with critics.

He hawks too many goods.

He's mean on the mound.

"People criticize you for everything," Ryan said, smiling. "They criticize you for the way you look, the way you dress, for your success.

"I don't let people like that bother me. You'd run yourself ragged trying to make people happy. As long as you feel in your heart you' re doing what is right, that's all that matters."

The grumbling, more than balanced by all the praise heaped on Ryan since he became a Ranger, began in 1992. He won five games, his fewest ever. He left with a lead six times, only to receive a no-decision in each as the bullpen failed him. He should have been less visible because of his injuries, which limited him to 1571/3 innings, his fewest since 1971. But he still seemed omnipresent, what with television, billboards, newspapers, magazines.

He represented a dozen products at his marketing peak. Advil. BizMart Inc. Wrangler. Whataburger. Justin Boots. He is down to seven products now, according to one of his agents, Matt Merola. But Merola said Ryan remains baseball's most marketable athlete.

And, just five years ago, the only thing he hawked other than an occasional auto dealership was Whataburger.

"What people began to realize," Merola said, "is what a great career he's had. His name came up in advertising meetings. Here's a guy with a great image and people wanted to identify their product with him."

The no-hitters in 1990 and 1991 undoubtedly helped. Wrangler featured Ryan, dressed in jeans, in a full-color ad. The caption read, "O.K., so he's 43 and pitches no-hitters. He still puts his jeans on one leg at a time." In 1991, Advertising Age magazine judged it the best newspaper ad of the year.

Agents called him a natural. Larry Lundy of Advantage Marketing Group in Irving said Ryan is "bigger than life . . . he's already a national hero."

Robin Blakely of Talent Sports International of Dallas said in 1990 that Ryan's only drawback in national campaigns might be his Southern drawl.

"Did an accent hurt Jimmy Stewart as an actor?" Merola asked. " I always tell people that Nolan Ryan is the Jimmy Stewart of professional athletes. If you want someone honest, you go with Nolan.

"If you want Laurence Olivier, go to central casting."

Ryan's devotion to family is another plus with advertisers, Merola said. His family has been exploited in ads ranging from western wear to camouflage hunting gear.

Ryan has a few rules about advertising. He agrees to promote only products "I'd enjoy." Because he is not comfortable in front of a camera, he declines when directors ask him to ham it up.

"I tell them that's not me," he said. "That's not why they hired me, anyway."

He hires out less than advertisers would like, Merola said. They have turned down perhaps a dozen campaigns in the last five years. The number is high, Merola said, considering the money involved.

He would not divulge Ryan's income from endorsements. He would say only that it is far less than the $30 million to $40 million commanded by the Chicago Bulls' Michael Jordan.

Critics maintain Ryan makes enough in baseball. Why sell anything? Jeff Millar, the creator of Tank McNamara, a syndicated comic strip, recently considered the question. In the strip, Ryan proposed that television viewers call a 1-900 number if they didn't want to see Ryan hawking any more goods. Of course, they would have to pay for the call, too.

Ryan said Millar, a Houston journalist, is a long-time critic. But complaints also have come of late in the form of letters to the editor, from people who believe they see Ryan's mug all too often.

"They think they do," Merola said, "but they don't. He only does one national commercial now.

"They just see him in the news, because everything he does is newsworthy."

He made more news than he would have liked in 1993. Most of it was because he's retiring. The rest was either for his injuries or an Aug. 4 fight with Chicago third baseman Robin Ventura.

Everyone took sides on Ryan-Ventura: Many marveled that Ryan, at 46, could get the best of a man 20 years younger; others said Ryan shouldn't have taken the offensive. Some said he should have been ejected.

The critics have come from inside baseball, too. A number of players and baseball broadcasters said Ryan should have been ejected from the game. Dave Duncan, Oakland's pitching coach, complained that Ryan too often throws at batters.

The loudest critic has been Chicago White Sox pitcher Jack McDowell, who, among other observations, said Ryan received preferential treatment.

"Critics say I should have been kicked out of that game," Ryan said. "But, if you don't defend yourself, you've got a good chance at getting hurt."

Ryan said he was "disappointed" in the response of some announcers who said he should have been ejected.

"They said I was throwing at him (Ventura)," he said. "How could you come to that conclusion? They didn't talk to me. They took it upon themselves to say I hit him on purpose.

"That's a reflection of what the media has become. Everybody's an authority now."

And McDowell?

"At the game, Jack is standing behind eight of his teammates, flapping his jaws," Ryan said, his conversation animated. "I told him to come on over, but he wouldn't.

"People tell you a lot about themselves in those kind of situations."

By his actions, Ryan told people he wouldn't take anything off anyone. He learned his lesson, he said, in 1980, when Dave Winfield charged him. Ryan was prepared for the standard baseball wrestling hold when Winfield surprised him with a roundhouse swing at his head.

He missed. But Ryan made up his mind he no longer would be such an inviting target.

As for being the target of criticism, however, he has no defense.

"It's something else to focus on," he said. "You can't worry about it, though. You could spend your whole life trying to justify yourself to people.

"I won't."



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