Curtiss Candy Company
In 1976, a cocky outfielder named Reggie Jackson boasted that if he ever played in New York, they’d name a candy bar after him.
Two years later, thousands of Reggie Bar candy bars rained from the sky at Yankee Stadium.
Reggie Jackson wasn’t known for modesty.
Playing for the Oakland A’s in 1976, fresh off three World Series championships, Jackson had already established himself as baseball royalty. But New York? That was the big stage.
“If I played in New York, they’d name a candy bar after me,” he told reporters.
It was big talk, but Jackson was ready to deliver.
When Jackson signed with the Yankees in 1977 for $2.96 million over five years, he brought his star power.
And someone was listening to those old boasts.
This is where the Curtiss Candy Company comes in. The same folks who made Baby Ruth and Butterfinger. They had a forgotten product called the “Wayne Bun”—a round patty of peanuts, caramel, and chocolate that had been gathering dust since the 1940s.
They came up with the brilliant idea to rebrand the Wayne Bun as the “Reggie Bar. They slapped Jackson’s image on a bright orange wrapper with collector baseball cards inside each package. And priced at an affordable 25 cents.
Otto Schnering’s company had struck promotional gold before. Now they were betting big on baseball’s biggest personality.
It is April 13, 1978. Yankee Stadium opening day.
44,667 fans walked through the gates, each receiving a free Reggie Bar. It was supposed to be a simple promotional giveaway.
Nobody expected what happened next.
Bottom of the first inning. Jackson steps to the plate against the Chicago White Sox. The count goes to 3-and-1.
CRACK.
Jackson launches a three-run homer to right field.
The crowd explodes. But instead of just cheering, something magical happens—hundreds of orange Reggie Bar wrappers start flying through the air like confetti. Fans are literally throwing candy bars onto the field in celebration.
The game stops. For five minutes, the grounds crew and volunteers scramble to collect hundreds of chocolate bars scattered across the diamond.
The moment became instant baseball folklore.
The marketing stunt worked beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.
Jackson later revealed that the Reggie Bar generated $11 million in the New York area alone during its first year. That’s roughly $50 million in today’s money—from a 25-cent candy bar.
The marketing was epic and worked with distinctive packaging, with Jackson mid-swing and collector cards inside each bar.
It was also perfect timing during the Yankees’ championship run.
Television commercials featured Jackson saying, “Reggie, you taste pretty good.”
For three years, the Reggie Bar was everywhere on the East Coast.
But unlike other great stories, this one had a bad ending.
1981 arrived with brutal efficiency. Jackson signed with the California Angels. Standard Brands merged with Nabisco. The Curtiss Candy Company faced SEC troubles.
The Reggie Bar was discontinued as quickly as it had appeared.
A brief revival in the 1990s by Clark Candies—timed for Jackson’s Hall of Fame induction—failed to recapture the magic. The moment had passed.
Fast-forward to 2021. COVID pandemic. A Canadian physiotherapist named Crystal Westergard is watching TV with her husband Bert.
Crystal had already done the impossible once—reviving her mother’s favorite candy, the Cuban Lunch bar, after it had been discontinued for 27 years. They’d built a small empire of nostalgic Canadian confections.
Then she sees a segment about the Reggie Bar on the History Channel.
“You know,” she tells her husband, “I can bring back the Reggie Bar.”
Crystal started cold-calling Jackson’s foundation. Eventually, his office manager called back.
Since Curtiss was long gone and Jackson owned his likeness rights, a deal was possible.
The Westergards hired CY Chocolates in Pennsylvania to create prototypes. Jackson’s feedback was simple: “More peanuts.”
But Crystal was obsessed with one detail—the caramel had to be honey-colored, not brown, exactly like it appeared in those old TV commercials.
“It may not seem like a big deal,” she said, “but people care. They want it to be just the way they remember.”
February 2023. The new Reggie Bars hit shelves at a nostalgia candy store in Yankees territory on Long Island.
Within a year, they were selling in 2,000 locations across the country. The Houston Astros—Jackson’s current team—now sell them at home games.
Jackson himself reportedly hands them out “like edible calling cards.”