Whether you park your car in the front yard of a ranch house on Ridge Road, trek from your own tailgate in one of the adjacent parking lots, or meander in from the packed Packers bars over on Holmgren Way, it’s hard to stroll into Lambeau Field without someone offering you a beer. Green Bay fans are friendly folk. They love beer and they don’t mind sharing from their stash.
Once inside the hallowed stadium, where beers cost $8 and a trip to the concession stand can cost precious minutes of game time, you might find that attitudes change a bit. Beer sales are limited to two per customer. If someone makes a beer run and hands you a cold beverage, they’ll likely expect you to buy a round before sales are cut off at the end of the third quarter. Given the constraints, spilling a cold beer—particularly on a cold day on the cold metal bleachers—is considered a major breach of etiquette.
There are, of course, exceptions. If you’re seated in the first two or three rows of the north or south end zones when the Packers score a touchdown, you could end up with a Packers player in your lap and suds on your shoulders, and it will likely be the best part of your trip.
Memorialized in highlight reels, video games, and a statue outside, the Lambeau Leap is one of the most celebrated celebrations in all of sports. Fittingly, it started with spilled beer.
The Packers were playing the then-Los Angeles Raiders on the day after Christmas in 1993. The game-time temperature was zero with a wind chill of about -22 degrees. At the time it was the third-coldest game in franchise history. Even including those who grew up in beachfront communities or backwater bayous, Packers players are taught to embrace cold weather as part of the home-field advantage. Dealing with cold weather is a point of pride for Wisconsinites.
The night before the game, the penultimate game of the regular season, a Green Bay TV station aired video of Raiders players kicking and frolicking in the snow as they got off their charter flight. The high temperature on Christmas Day was a relatively balmy—by Green Bay standards—25 degrees. Packers safety LeRoy Butler, who grew up in Jacksonville, Florida, before starring at Florida State, took that as a good sign. “I thought to myself, A West Coast team coming out here? These guys aren’t going to want to play in this cold,’” Butler wrote in his book, The LeRoy Butler Story: From Wheelchair to the Lambeau Leap.
The Packers, who entered the game as a three-point favorite, got a touchdown from Edgar Bennett in the second quarter and grabbed a 14–0 lead when Brett Favre hit Sterling Sharpe with a 23-yard touchdown pass in the third. As cold as it was, the stadium remained full. The sellout crowd of 54,482 sensed that a playoff berth was imminent. The Raiders had the ball on their own 45-yard line. On second and 10, quarterback Vince Evans took a seven-step drop, scanned the field, and saw outside linebacker Tony Bennett and defensive end Reggie White collapsing the right side of the offensive line, which was manned by tackle Bruce Wilkerson and rookie running back Randy Jordan.
Bennett broke through first, chasing Evans to the 33 and diving at his shoes. Under pressure from the hard-charging White, who had closed to within a stride or two away, Evans rolled right and delivered a screen pass off his back foot to Jordan, as the running back drifted toward the sideline. As Jordan made the catch, Packers linebacker Bryce Paup, who had sniffed out the screen immediately, pursued and was preparing to deliver a punishing hit for a five-yard loss.
He never got the chance.
Just as Jordan began to turn upfield, Butler crashed into his right shoulder and leveled the running back. As Butler rolled over Jordan, the ball squirted directly to White. The defensive end, who had scored two touchdowns during his days with the Philadelphia Eagles, grabbed the ball at the 35 and began rumbling toward the end zone. Just a few steps into his journey, the “Minister of Defense” was confronted by Raiders guard Steve Wisniewski. Paup tried to block but fell down. Butler jumped over Paup and made eye contact with White, who lateraled the ball to the streaking safety at the 25.
With the crowd roaring, Butler glanced over his right shoulder, saw the coast was clear, and cruised past the goal line for the first touchdown of his career. As he neared the back of the end zone, Butler dropped the ball from his right hand, pointed at a fan in the stands, and jumped over a pile of icy snow and onto the wall, which measured higher than six feet. The fans grabbed him, beer was spilled, and a tradition was born. “Thank God the guy dropped his beer and caught me,” Butler said. “The first thing he said was: ‘You owe me a beer!’ I was up there quite a while. People in the first few rows were laughing. Everybody was loving that moment. Afterward, when I went to the bench smelling like nachos and Miller Genuine Draft, all the guys came up and said, ‘Man, that was an awesome play. What made you jump in the stands?’ I really couldn’t answer them. It was just a spontaneous thing.”
The Packers won the game 28–0, but Butler wondered how head coach Mike Holmgren would react to his impromptu celebration. “I don’t have a problem with it because it means we just scored,” Holmgren said. “As long as the other team doesn’t feel like we’re showing them up, I’m all right with it.”
Lee Remmel, who covered the Packers as a journalist, worked as the director of public relations, and served as team historian, told Packer Plus that management was a little leery about the move initially. “We weren’t used to it, and to be honest, I thought it was a little out of character at first,” Remmel said. “But it’s become an institution, and what’s special is it started from the players themselves. It’s something our players look forward to doing with the fans to this day.”
Though it didn’t receive the Lambeau Leap moniker immediately, Butler’s celebratory gesture was embraced by Packers players, fans, and media. A Slate.com story on celebratory sports gestures described the play thusly: “The populist leap is particularly suited to the NFL’s only publicly-owned team, the zealously beloved Pack. Players express their appreciation to the Lambeau fans by hurtling into their midst for just one moment becoming one of them.”
While looking back at Butler’s play on YouTube, a few things stand out:
• Jordan was hit so quickly that you question whether he had possession long enough for the play to be ruled a “catch and fumble” rather than “incomplete.” In this day and age, it likely would have been reviewed.
• Regardless of how you feel about the Jordan part of the play, it looks like White was out of bounds before he flipped the ball to Butler. In essence, the play shouldn’t have been a touchdown.
• When Butler got to the back of the end zone, it wasn’t as crowded with camera people, ushers, cops, attendants, and other personnel who ring the end zone at games today. Packers players who leap now must wade through a sea of cameramen looking for the perfect shot.
The tradition evolved, but it’s always been fun for players. “There is no better feeling in the world,” said Antonio Freeman, who caught and leaped his way to the Packers Hall of Fame. “The fans pull you in and pound on you and spill popcorn and beer all over you. On a cold day, getting beer spilled on you isn’t the best feeling, but for those couple of seconds, you become one of the fans.”
When receiver Donald Driver scored his first touchdown in 1999, he started doing a dance in the end zone. Driver, who later went on to win Dancing with the Stars, became known for his shimmy celebration after receptions that gained first downs. But in the end zone, however, he needed to get in the stands, and Freeman let him know that immediately. “I yelled at him, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ And told him, ‘Get in the stands,’” Freeman said.
Driver heeded the advice and went on to score 28 Lambeau Leaps during his career. He is regarded by many as the best leaper of them all. “He has a ridiculous vertical,” Freeman said.
Although Butler invented the Lambeau Leap, and Freeman and Driver used it to show off their athleticism and bond with fans, it was another wide receiver, Robert Brooks, who helped cement the Lambeau Leap’s spot in Packers culture. A third-round draft pick in 1992, Brooks became one of Brett Favre’s favorite targets. In 1995 he caught 102 passes and set a then-team record for receiving yards (1,497). He also scored 13 touchdowns and punctuated many with a leap into the stands. He asked Butler for permission to copy the move, and the safety, knowing that offensive players were more likely to score, was happy to share it.
Brooks, who was fast, undersized, and tough, used the leap to help carve his own identity among Packers Nation. “I honestly started doing it because I was looking for a way to get fans off of Sterling Sharpe and the lack of a receiver,” said Brooks, who was inducted into the Packers Hall of Fame in 2007. “I saw footage of LeRoy’s leap into the stands. That’s what brought that back to me in ’95. I was just looking for something. I thought it was something Mike Holmgren would frown upon. I came to the sideline after jumping in the stands, and Mike smiled, and it wasn’t a big deal.”
Brooks, a budding musician, released a song in 1996 called “Jump in the Stands.” The video features Packers highlights with Brooks cruising around in a convertible with Gilbert Brown and Aaron Taylor. Here is the opening stanza:
Hear ye, Hear ye
Come one, come all.
Let me tell you who I started stand jumping for y’all.
My idea came from Leroy Butler you know.
But he stuck to the wall like Velcro.
I said, “Roy, let me just that gesture, my man.”
So I proceeded to jump all in the stands.
And now you see,
The rest is just history,
That there’s a special bond between the players and fans, ya see.
From now on,
I’m going to show you much love.
Every time I score,
I’m going to get me a hug.
From a Packer fan,
The best in the land.
I’m a never stop jumpin’ in the stands, my man.
The Lambeau Leap was so ingrained in the NFL that it was grandfathered in as permissible when the league cracked down on touchdown celebrations. It is often imitated but never duplicated—even by Packers players on the road. “I tried to jump in the [Metrodome] stands by some Packer fans, but a Viking fan punched me,” Brooks said. “He was really upset.”
On several occasions opposing players have tried to celebrate touchdowns by venturing in the stands—usually when they see fans wearing their team’s apparel. Chad “Ochocinco” Johnson, the flamboyant wide receiver for the Cincinnati Bengals, scored a touchdown in 2009. After waiting to see that flag on the field signified a penalty on Green Bay, the former Mr. Johnson toured the northeast corner of the end zone before finding three men dressed in orange and black. “It was pretty cool,” he said after the Bengals’ 31–24 win. “I just wanted to really get the W. The W is the most important because if I leaped and we lost, it’s all nullified. It all makes no sense.”
Packers fans gave Ochocinco’s tourism act a negative review. Several made obscene gestures as he returned to the bench. “If you were paying attention, I did ask as I went down the line. I didn’t want to be disrespectful to the Packers, their tradition, or their fans,” Ochocinco said. “I was asking for a spot. The Bengals fans responded, but the Packers fans—they weren’t happy.”
Packers players weren’t thrilled either. “I hope the fans pushed him back out,” defensive back Charles Woodson said. “But if we don’t want him to jump into the stands, we’ve got to keep him out. We can’t control what he does if he scores. So that’s our fault.” Over the years several Minnesota Vikings players have attempted leaps, including tight end Kyle Rudolph who jumped in the stands between two purple-clad spectators in 2012 and was shoved back down by surrounding Packers fans.
Almost all players who attempt leaps realize that it’s more difficult than it appears. The wall is six feet high on average, though it is lower behind the goalposts than in the corners. Packers defensive end Mike Daniels got a skewed view of the measurements in 2012. After picking up a fumble by Detroit Lions quarterback Matthew Stafford, Daniels, who weighs 290 pounds, rumbled for a touchdown while contemplating a leap for much of the 43-yard journey.
“The wall got taller and taller and taller as I approached,” Daniels told Sports Illustrated. “I jumped and couldn’t get all the way up there.” Daniels crawled up the wall and gave up after about a second. “Every time we see that clip, everybody starts laughing. But, hey, I got a Lambeau Leap, so laugh all you want.”
Though never known for jumping ability, Packers tackle Mark Tauscher, a Wisconsin native who was a basketball standout at Auburndale High School, completed one of the more memorable leaps in history. In a game against the rival Chicago Bears on Christmas Day of 2005, Tauscher caught a touchdown pass from Brett Favre, spiked the ball, and did a barrel roll over the lowest part of the wall. The moment was squelched, however, when the touchdown was negated by a penalty. Tauscher was ridiculed by coaches and teammates for years after his leap, which was par for the course. “We used to get in the film room and grade guys’ leaps like Olympic judges,” Freeman said. “There was a lot of trash talking. It could get ruthless if you didn’t get high enough.”
Fullback John Kuhn felt the sting when he slipped on the approach during a wild-card playoff loss to the San Francisco 49ers. “That one comes with an asterisk,” Kuhn said, laughing. “There are a lot of obstacles on the way to the wall: cords, cameramen in the way. It’s not easy. When you get up there, if you’re lucky enough, it’s a treat. There’s hootin’ and hollerin’ and smackin’, beer spillin’, popcorn spillin’. Your uniform usually takes an adjustment there.”
Legendary quarterback Brett Favre, who was at the controls of the Green Bay offense when the leap began, made his first plunge into the stands in 2006, his 15th season. Favre, who was known for passing touchdowns and not rushing ones, graded his own effort harshly. “I should have found a lower spot,” he said. “I’m not real savvy in the stands-jumping department.”
Aaron Rodgers, who backed up Favre for three years, scored his first touchdown on a quarterback sneak in 2008 and followed it with a Lambeau Leap. “I’ve been dreaming about that for four years,” he said afterward. “I was hoping my first leap would be something a little more flashy, but at that point in the game, I just said, ‘What the heck…I’m going for it.’”
In 2016 the Wisconsin Badgers began their season with a highly-anticipated non-conference game against LSU at “neutral” Lambeau Field. In the lead-up to the game, several Tigers players told reporters they were dreaming about Lambeau Leaps. Tigers coach Les Miles, knowing that such celebrations are banned in college football, wasn’t having it. “I promise you that if anyone jumps for the Lambeau Leap, they’ll end up with their thumb out to see if they can get a ride home,” Miles said.
No LSU player was forced to contemplate the 1,100-mile journey. When the Badgers sealed their 16–14 upset, players did Lambeau Leaps into the arms of fans and family members in nearly every section of the stadium. “It was electric. It was everything I thought it would be and more,” linebacker Vince Biegel said. “I grew up in Wisconsin, I went to Green Bay Packers games, I’m used to this stadium being green and gold. For it to be red and white was a special moment.”
The following year, Biegel was drafted by the Packers and shared a locker room with veteran leapers like Randall Cobb and Jordy Nelson. During a Week 7 win against the Carolina Panthers in 2014, Cobb emerged from a Lambeau Leap with beer, popcorn, and ketchup on his jersey. “How much more Wisconsin could it get?” he asked.
After seeing the ketchup stain on the shoulder of Cobb’s No. 18 jersey, the folks at Clorox contacted the wide receiver and crafted a quick endorsement deal. “Clorox cleans the jersey,” he said, “[and]makes sure nobody gets ketchup on the Cobb.”
Nelson’s first leap came during his rookie season in 2008, when he caught a nine-yard touchdown pass from Rodgers, who was in his first year as a starter following Favre’s exit. The leap wasn’t an issue for Nelson, who was a star track athlete at Riley County High school in Riley, Kansas. The exit was an issue. “The fans want to hold on to you,” he said. “They want to try and stay warm and cuddle a bit.”
In 2014 the Packers placed a statue, commemorating the leap, in Harlan Plaza not far from statues honoring Curly Lambeau and Vince Lombardi. Created by a team of 15 sculptors from the Fine Art Studio of Rotblatt-Amrany in Highwood, Illinois, the statue features a green padded wall and four life-size bronze human figurines who are cheering. A section in the middle allows fans to do the leap themselves and pose for a photo. Sean Bell, the project manager for the stature, said that is what makes it special. “To me personally, it really signifies the importance of the fans to this team,” Bell said. “There are memorials to players all over the country, but this is the first one that’s really dedicated to the fans themselves.”
Butler, who scored only one more touchdown after his inaugural leap, said it was the fans who inspired the gesture and will keep it going as long as the stadium is standing. “It’s all about the fans,” he said. “They are what makes Lambeau Field such a special place.”