Nolan Ryan Home Runs Given Up

Let’s talk about Nolan Ryan. The guy threw fastballs that looked like laser beams. He also gave up some truly memorable home runs.

Wait—what? The strikeout king? The guy with seven no-hitters? Yep. Nolan Ryan served up his share of dingers. And the stories are pure gold.

The Numbers That Surprise Everyone

Ryan pitched for a ridiculous 27 seasons. He faced over 22,000 batters. But he only gave up 321 home runs.

That’s fewer than many modern pitchers do in half the time. It’s a weird stat. He struck out nearly 5,714 batters but let just 321 go yard.

Do the math: that’s one homer for every 17 strikeouts. The league average? About one per six. Ryan was a homer-resistant freak of nature.

The “Unhittable” That Got Hit

Ryan’s fastball was legendary. It could hit 100 mph with nasty movement. But when batters did connect, they often made history.

Take Reggie Jackson. Mr. October hit a massive bomb off Ryan in 1986. Jackson later joked, “I closed my eyes and swung.” It still went 450 feet.

Or Mike Schmidt. He cranked number 500 off Ryan in 1987. The crowd cheered for minutes. Ryan just tipped his cap. No fuss.

The “Junk” Home Runs

Not all Ryan homers were majestic. Some were goofy. In 1976, a guy named Bobby Darwin hit a blooper that barely cleared the fence. Ryan laughed about it later.

Another time, in 1982, Dave Kingman hit a pop-up that the wind carried over the wall. The ball landed in a hot dog vendor’s cart. Ryan just shrugged. “Wind’s part of the game,” he said.

Then there’s the Benny Ayala story. In 1983, Ayala hit a ground-rule double that bounced into the stands. The umpire called it a home run by mistake. Ryan didn’t argue. He just pitched the next guy.

The Oddest Stat of All

Want to feel confused? Ryan gave up exactly 321 home runs. But only two were grand slams. Two! In 27 years!

Compare that to modern pitchers. Many give up five grand slams in a single season. Ryan’s total? Two. The first? To Ken McMullen in 1970. The second? To Gary Carter in 1986.

That means 99% of Ryan’s homers were solo shots or two-run jobs. He rarely got crushed with the bases loaded.

The “Who?” Hall of Fame

Some of the guys who went deep off Ryan are total nobodies. Wayne Gross? Tom Poquette? John Wockenfuss? Exactly.

But here’s the kicker: those “who?” players usually hit their homer off Ryan on a Tuesday afternoon in front of 5,000 fans. Then they’d go back to hitting .220. It was their one moment of glory.

One time, Doug Rader hit a homer off Ryan and later admitted, “I was trying to bunt.” The ball somehow sailed over the fence. Ryan just stared at him.

The “Mendoza Line” Special

In 1988, Mario Diaz—a guy with a career .240 average—hit a walk-off homer off Ryan. The ball barely cleared the right-field wall. Diaz was so shocked he forgot to run the bases.

He later said, “I thought it was a pop-up. Then I heard the crowd.” Ryan didn’t even look back. He just walked to the dugout.

Why This Matters (and Why It’s Fun)

Nolan Ryan’s home runs are a reminder. Even legends serve up meatballs sometimes. It’s part of baseball’s beautiful randomness.

The guy threw 7,400 innings at unholy speeds. Of course a few balls got crushed. But the way they got crushed? Pure oddball entertainment.

You’ve got wind-aided bloops, mistaken calls, and guys hitting dingers when they meant to bunt. It’s like a comedy reel set to a fastball sound effect.

The Final Fun Fact

Ryan’s highest single-season home run count? Just 21 in 1979. In that same season, he struck out 276 batters. So for every homer, he fanned 13 guys. That’s absurdly efficient.

By contrast, modern pitchers like Gerrit Cole often give up 30+ homers a year. Ryan’s record is like a superpower disguised as a stat.

So next time someone says, “Nolan Ryan gave up a home run,” smile. It’s a rare event. A weird little blip in a career full of zeros. And it’s way more fun to talk about than his 5,714 strikeouts.

Because who remembers the routine outs? The homers are the stories. And Ryan’s homers are some of the zaniest in baseball history.

Now go tell a friend about the windy day Dave Kingman’s pop-up landed in a hot dog cart. That’s what baseball’s all about.