There’s a joke that’s made the rounds for years in Green Bay that speaks to the nostalgia surrounding one of the NFL’s oldest teams: How many Packers fans does it take to change a lightbulb? I dunno, how many? Three—one to change the bulb and two to remember how good the old one was.
No matter how many coaches and quarterbacks the team will ever have, they will always live in the shadows of Vince Lombardi and Bart Starr. Their names are often summoned on Sundays when Packers fans gather across Wisconsin and throughout Packers Nation. If these fans wore bracelets, they might say, What would Vince do? Tour guides at Lambeau are trained to discourage visitors from spreading their relatives’ ashes on the field. If Lambeau isn’t heaven, apparently, it’s the gateway for some of the Packers faithful.
When you land in Green Bay as a player, you have a chance to play for football immortality, in a shrine called Lambeau Field—the hallowed cradle of the league. Step inside the stadium and you see the names of 34 players in the Pro Football Hall of Fame—second-most behind only their rival Chicago Bears with 39.
Then there is the list of 13 years in which they won league championships—more than any other NFL franchise. Titletown is a moniker they’ve earned, and when it comes to recruiting talent, what kid from a farm in Iowa, a small town in Alabama, or the prairie of South Dakota who dreamed of one day playing in the NFL didn’t imagine donning a Packers jersey and hearing his name announced as he ran onto Lambeau Field?
If you’re wondering who the visionary owner is that created such an endearing and enduring football brand, there’s nearly 540,000 of them—holding 5.2 million non-voting shares. That is, the Packers are the only publicly owned professional sports franchise in North America. It’s run by a President, board of directors, and General Manager. It also exists in the smallest market in professional sports, Green Bay’s population hovers just above 107,000.
Despite the small market, the Packers rank as the 12th most-valuable NFL franchise at $6.3 billion, according to CNBC’s Official 2024 team valuations. Lambeau Field also is the second-largest stadium in the NFL, holding 81,441—about a thousand less than MetLife in New York. Every game at Lambeau since 1960 has sold out and there’s a 30-year waiting list for season tickets—more than 150,000 names. They haven’t blacked out a game for lack of attendance in 40 years, the best performance of any team in the league.
That says something about what many think is the most loyal fanbase in the NFL. For any NFL fan who has traveled to sports bars across the country, there are only two teams who consistently show up and show out in force no matter the city—The Green Bay Packers and the Pittsburgh Steelers.
Samford University researchers recently ranked all 32 NFL teams on three key factors: total number of fans, attendance, and merchandise purchased. With those measurements, they determined that the Green Bay Packers have the strongest fanbase in the NFL. The Packers had nearly 10 million fans at games during the four years surveyed. By comparison, the Jacksonville Jaguars (the last-place team) delivered fewer than a million.
It could be that Packers fans have the most fun, and some have credited them with coining the actual term “tailgating” during the team’s first year in business in 1919. Back then, Packers fans would back their pickup trucks around the field and sit on their tailgates.
I recently traveled to Lambeau to catch a Monday Night Football game that featured the Packers playing a proud but injury-depleted New Orleans Saints team. Three hours before the game, I made my way to the stadium through acres of tailgaters with the unmistakable aroma of grilling brats everywhere, the bun-friendly sausages that are the state meat beloved by the heavily German population. But the secret to the fanbase’s happiness might be found in their libations.
When you eat a brat here, you wash it down with a Leinenkugel’s beer…or three. The full-flavored Wisconsin brew dates to 1867 and is now owned by MillerCoors, one of the prominent Lambeau sponsors. First timers to Lambeau sometimes confuse ordering a Leinie with asking for a Heiny (as far as I could tell, they don’t sell Heineken at Lambeau). Just don’t grab a hiney or they’ll call security.
While Packers fans know their football, they don’t take themselves too seriously and it was easy to tell that no matter the outcome of the game, visitors to Lambeau were going to have a good time. The home games blend a college football atmosphere with a potluck.
The stadium rises from a sea of one and two-story homes like an aircraft carrier at port, a monument to the history of the NFL. If you don’t get goosebumps the first time you approach Lambeau you can’t truly be a football fan.
While Lambeau is the oldest continuously used stadium in the NFL, it has undergone several massive renovations and updates. Nearly 170 indoor luxury suites now ring the stadium for those who want the Lambeau feel without the elements (though, how can you truly have the Lambeau experience without the frozen tundra?).
The nearly 400,000 square-foot atrium—five stories high—is the centerpiece of the latest, stunning renovation. Among restaurants and shops, it houses the 15,000-square-foot Packers Hall of Fame which is the CliffsNotes version of the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.
As many professional sports teams have come to realize, the real estate around their stadiums and arenas can be developed to enhance the experience and value of the franchise. The Packers have transformed 34 acres west of Lambeau, called the Packers Titletown District. A creative mix of indoor-outdoor offerings (including a snow tubing hill) can be found here, and the development is anchored by, what else, a Cabela’s store.
As I took my seat at Lambeau, it looked like the faithful were regular shoppers at the famed outdoor retailer. It was post-deer season, so with game time temps in the upper 20s, there were plenty of fans wearing a mix of camouflage hunting parkas and blaze orange coats, with a few insulated ice fishing overalls as well.
When the Packers score a touchdown, the players famously leap into the crowd where the fans hug them—sometimes without spilling a drop of beer. In the background, Bang on the Drum blares over the din of a roaring crowd singing…I don’t want to work.
And for the Packers faithful, they know somewhere Vince and Bart are smiling.