‘A Childhood Jackpot’: Revisiting Nickelodeon’s Legendary Super Toy Run

Bobby Russell may not recall every item he snatched during his frantic sprint through a KB Toys store in San Jose, California, in 1992, but the receipt remains etched in his memory. “It stretched 10 or 20 feet,” he shares with Mytour. “Similar to one of those endless CVS receipts.”

At just 10 years old, Russell was among the lucky few in the '80s and '90s who experienced the pinnacle of childhood dreams. He became a winner of the Nickelodeon Super Toy Run, a contest that flooded the network with countless entries from eager kids vying for the top prize: a five-minute, no-holds-barred shopping spree in a toy store. Armed with a shopping cart, winners could load up on Nintendo consoles, bikes, action figures, dolls, and even swing sets. With clever planning, some, like Russell, managed to haul away $10,000 worth of toys and a receipt that rivaled the length of a measuring tape.

However, not every winner viewed the experience as pure bliss. Once the cameras stopped rolling and the truck filled with toys departed, Russell faced what he describes as the “less glamorous aftermath” of the Toy Run.

“People,” he recalls, “were incredibly frustrated.”

Brainstorming Brilliance

Led by branding experts Fred Seibert and Alan Goodman, Nickelodeon underwent a major evolution in the early 1980s, transitioning from a little-known cable channel to a must-watch hub for children. Shows like You Can’t Do That on Television, Double Dare, and Mr. Wizard’s World played a key role in shaping Nick’s unique identity. It became a space where kids felt acknowledged and respected, free from condescension.

Establishing this identity through advertising required meticulous strategy. “We had virtually no budget,” Scott Webb, a Nickelodeon on-air promotion producer from 1983 to 2000, explains to Mytour. “We brainstormed in our writer’s room, imagining kids’ wildest dreams that we could bring to life.”

Webb notes that both television and radio faced a similar challenge at the time: repetitive programming forced stations to differentiate themselves creatively. (While Nickelodeon had original hits, it also relied on aged reruns like Lassie.) Contests became a popular tactic to engage audiences. This approach succeeded on radio and was proving effective for MTV, Nickelodeon’s sister network under MTV Networks. The channel launched promotions offering prizes such as a chance to party with Van Halen, complete with all the wild consequences that entailed.

Debauchery wasn’t on the table for Nickelodeon. Instead, Webb and his team devised Nick or Treat, a Halloween competition where a child could win their body weight in M&Ms. “Another idea that emerged was the Super Toy Run,” Webb recalls. “It offered kids a set amount of time to dash through Toys ‘R Us and grab as many toys as possible. It was essentially a classic supermarket spree, but tailored to resonate with our young audience.”

The inaugural Super Toy Run, initially named the Nick Toy Run, was promoted in December 1984. Nickelodeon encouraged viewers to enter for a chance to win a shopping spree at the Children’s Palace toy store in Denver, Colorado. The lucky winner, along with two guardians, would be flown to the location and given five minutes to collect anything they desired.

Why Denver? “Distribution was a major factor back then,” Webb clarifies. “The toy store was chosen based on where we aimed to expand cable distribution.” (Many promotional contests were supported by local cable operators, who benefited from increased viewership on Nickelodeon.)

Children’s Palace, with its castle-like design, was a well-known toy retailer in the 1980s. However, it didn’t quite match the scale of Toys ‘R Us, the leading toy chain in the U.S. By 1985, the second year of the Toy Run, Toys ‘R Us had become an official sponsor. Children could enter by mailing forms or dropping them into in-store collection boxes. Winners were flown to a Toys ‘R Us location in Los Angeles, which would close for several hours to allow the winner to claim their prizes.

Unlike other promotions that often felt competitive, Nickelodeon ensured the odds were heavily in the kids’ favor. “We genuinely wanted the children to win and get their dream toys,” Webb explains. “That’s why we conducted a practice run beforehand.”

Winners typically got a preview of the toy store the night before, scouting locations and prioritizing their most-desired items. If a toy was placed too high, producers would lower it. For bulky items like bicycles, kids could simply grab a blue ticket used by Toys ‘R Us for oversized merchandise. “But there was also plenty of cart-filling action,” Webb notes, highlighting the visually exciting process of piling toys into the cart.

As Nickelodeon’s popularity soared, so did the Toy Run’s appeal. By the early 1990s, the network was flooded with 500,000 to 750,000 entries annually. Among them was Bobby Russell from West Lake, Ohio, a self-described toy enthusiast who remembers submitting his entry at a local KB Toys (sometimes written as K-B or Kay Bee), which had briefly taken over promotional duties from Toys ‘R Us.

“My parents said, ‘Sure, fill out one of those postcards and drop it in the bin at KB Toys,’” Russell recalls. “That’s all I did. Just one card, one time. That was my entire effort to enter the competition.”

Russell had just secured his own golden opportunity.

The Toy Run Experience

The initial call went to Russell’s parents, who scheduled a follow-up with Nickelodeon for when Russell was home. “It felt surreal,” Russell admits. “For a kid, it was like hitting the jackpot.”

A mailed packet confirmed the details, but it also meant a lengthy wait. Entries for the Toy Run were typically collected in the fall, with the event occurring months later. Russell had to wait until February 1992 for his turn.

Nickelodeon sent Russell and his family to a KB Toys store in San Jose, California. Unlike the larger Toys ‘R Us locations used in previous Toy Runs, this KB Toys was more compact. Additionally, Russell was given only three minutes instead of five. “The only drawback was the store’s size,” Russell recalls. “I thought, ‘I won’t have enough time or space to grab everything I want.’”

There was an added complication. Unlike Toys ‘R Us, where kids could grab slips for video games, KB Toys kept their gaming stock on the sales floor. This could have limited how much they could collect before filling the cart. However, both the store and Nickelodeon allowed some flexibility.

“{Nickelodeon} sort of slipped up,” Russell explains. “I wouldn’t call it a mistake, but they gave me an interesting tip: items didn’t need to stay in the cart. As long as they touched the cart, they were mine.”

“My dad said, ‘You heard them, right? Just touch the back of the pegs holding the games or other items. Pull them off near the cart, and as long as they touch it, they’re yours.’”

The advice paid off. On the day of the spree, Russell was given the green light. He raced through the aisles, sticking to the plan. Entire rows of games were knocked down, creating a chaotic mess of plastic and cardboard. Russell moved like a whirlwind, ensuring items bounced off his cart as per the rules.

“I practically emptied the entire game section in about two minutes,” he recalls. “Everything was gone. Then, I moved to the action figure aisles, right when the first wave of X-Men figures was released. I just reached to the back of the pegs and pulled down entire rows of figures.”

He grabbed bikes, stuffed animals, and even picked up a few things for his sister to keep the peace. He also collected handfuls of small, inexpensive toys to share with friends and classmates. By the end, Russell had accumulated $9,522.22 worth of merchandise. The massive haul—around 200 items—arrived later in a freight trailer, completely filling his garage.

However, reality intruded on the Toy Run experience. Like all prizes, the IRS classified it as taxable income, meaning Russell’s parents had to pay taxes on his winnings.

Additionally, not everyone was thrilled about Russell’s luck. At school, his classmates were envious of his windfall. “The kids were really jealous, which I guess is understandable,” he says. “But they kept demanding things, and even after sharing, it wasn’t enough. Kids can be cruel, and they definitely were about it.”

Russell recalls that it wasn’t just his classmates who reacted poorly. “My fourth-grade teacher, in her first year of teaching, seemed to take it out on me. Because I took a week and a half off to go to California for the Toy Run, she made my fourth-grade year miserable. There was no support or enthusiasm from her—just punishment when I returned.”

For Russell, winning the Toy Run became a defining part of his school life. “I used to fly under the radar, but after the Toy Run, everyone knew who I was. I became ‘the Toy Run kid.’”

The End of an Era

At just 7 years old, Brittney Balcer was one of the youngest Toy Run winners, securing a five-minute spree at a Toys ‘R Us in Pembroke Pines, Florida, in June 1996.

“They picked us up in a limo—me and some close friends—and took us to our local Toys ‘R Us,” Balcer tells Mytour. “It was amazing to be at the store I knew so well, the same place where I’d entered the contest. The limo ride was a highlight, and I had friends from church and the neighborhood there, all cheering me on.”

Similar to Russell and other winners, Balcer got a chance to preview the store. “They guided us through and asked, ‘What are the things you really want to focus on?’ They even placed arrows on the floor to create a clear path, ensuring the process was smooth. It wasn’t random wandering—there was a camera crew walking backward in front of me the whole time, capturing everything.”

The idea of costing Toys ‘R Us a fortune wasn’t on her mind. Instead, she focused on sharing the experience with her three siblings. “They wanted to benefit from it too, and I was happy to include them. As a kid, I loved sharing and wanted to give toys to the neighbors. It was exciting to be able to do that.”

Her winnings—estimated at $7,000 or $8,000, plus a $1,000 Toys ‘R Us gift card—were later delivered to her home. “I remember a huge truck pulling up and unloading everything into our garage. We were stunned, looking over all the items. It felt unreal, especially as a child. It was like, ‘This can’t be real life. It’s insane.’”

She didn’t face jealousy from peers either. “I was home-schooled,” she explains.

Like other winners, Balcer signed a release, becoming the face of the Toy Run. Nickelodeon used footage from her spree to promote the next contest, showing kids that someone just like them could win.

“We always followed up with promos featuring real kids winning because we wanted to maintain that genuine, clubhouse-like connection with our audience,” Webb explains. “Our promos were all about real children and their experiences.”

Balcer was among the final participants in the Toy Run’s golden era. The event continued sporadically until 2000, then went on a long break. It resurfaced in 2010 but faded again shortly after. The 2018 version allowed three winners to shop at Walmart, though the total value of toys couldn’t exceed $3,000—a far cry from the chaotic sprees of earlier years. (Adjusting for inflation, Russell’s haul would be worth around $21,000 today.)

“Over time, it lost its novelty,” Webb remarks about the decline of contests post-2000, which coincided with Nickelodeon’s shift toward digital platforms. “It didn’t need to be an annual event anymore. By then, we were focusing more on original programming. The original goals that inspired these contests had largely been achieved.”

Today, Toy Run winners are like members of an exclusive club. Most of these events took place before the internet and smartphones, making the winners seem almost mythical.

“I don’t bring it up often, so most people don’t know,” Russell says. “When I finally tell them, they’re shocked. They ask, ‘Why didn’t you ever mention this?’ And I just say, ‘I don’t know. It never came up.’”

Today, Russell works as a theater professor and runs a high school drama program. While it’s unclear how much the Toy Run influenced his career path, he believes there’s a connection: “For me, it reinforced the importance of holding onto that sense of wonder, fun, and creativity.”

He still owns many of the toys he collected in 1992. (Some were sold years later to help him buy his first truck.) He might sell the rest someday, but only if he can ensure they go to someone who will appreciate them, rather than ending up with a reseller.

“It’s like Andy and his toys in Toy Story. Even though they’re just objects, I don’t want them to go to waste. I’d prefer they go to someone who values them for nostalgia or because they remind them of their childhood.”

He still purchases toys. “It’s clear the Toy Run left a mark on me because I still buy collectible toys today. I’m not sure if Toys ‘R Us or the Toy Run psychologically influenced me, but I still love toys. I always have.”