
In the mid-1970s, Rob Nelson observed a young boy’s intriguing routine at Civic Stadium in Portland, Oregon. Both were involved with the Portland Mavericks, an independent baseball team unaffiliated with Major League Baseball. Nelson, a budding player who occasionally took the field but primarily handled ticket sales and coached youth camps, noticed the batboy, Todd Field, engaging in a peculiar habit.
Field, no older than 11 or 12, pulled out a Redman chewing tobacco pouch, scooped out its contents, and packed it into his cheek. He then let the dark sludge drip down his chin or spat it onto the ground.
While chewing tobacco was widespread among players, Nelson was struck by how young Field was to adopt the habit. Curious, he approached the boy and inquired if he was dipping, the term commonly used for placing tobacco in the cheek.
Field spat another blob of brown liquid onto the ground and revealed his tobacco tin to Nelson. Inside was black licorice, finely chopped to mimic the dark, muddy appearance of real chewing tobacco.
This interaction sparked an idea in Nelson’s mind. As a child, he had imitated his hero, Chicago White Sox second baseman Nellie Fox, by filling his mouth with bubblegum. He wondered if kids could mimic their baseball idols without the health risks or disapproval that came with using real tobacco.
AmazonShortly after, Nelson discussed his concept with Jim Bouton, a former New York Yankee who had been shunned for his candid memoir, Ball Four. Nelson pitched his idea for a fake tobacco product, but with a unique twist: shredded bubblegum instead of licorice. He considered names like Maverick Chew or All-Star Chew.
Bouton found the idea fascinating. As they watched the Mavericks players run drills and use real tobacco—neither man had ever indulged—they agreed the concept had potential. Nelson would create the product, while Bouton would handle distribution. Bouton also became the sole investor, committing $10,000 to bring Nelson’s vision to life.
Although the Mavericks disbanded in 1977, Nelson and Bouton continued their collaboration. Nelson, employed by a pitching machine company, visited Bouton after he joined the Atlanta Braves in 1978. Together, they refined Nelson’s shredded gum concept. Inspired by an ad in People magazine, Nelson bought a home gum-making kit and experimented in the kitchen of Field’s parents. To replicate the dark hue of Field’s licorice mixture, he added brown food coloring, maple extract, and root beer extract. The outcome, unsurprisingly, was unappetizing.
Even without a successful gum prototype, Bouton pitched the idea to several baseball-related companies, using his own image on the mock-up packaging. Topps and Fleer, known for their bubblegum cards, declined. Eventually, Bouton approached Amurol, a Wrigley Company subsidiary. Coincidentally, Amurol engineer Ron Ream had been developing shredded gum for years. The company loved the concept of a pouch-based gum mimicking chewing tobacco and approved the name Nelson had chosen: Big League Chew.
Ream’s formula addressed the issue of gum ribbons sticking together by incorporating glycerin to maintain their texture. However, Amurol rejected Nelson’s proposal to make the gum brown, opting to keep it pink to avoid fully imitating chewing tobacco.
In 1980, Amurol tested Big League Chew at a 7-Eleven in Naperville, Illinois. By the time executives returned from lunch, the 2.1-ounce pouches were completely sold out.
In its debut year, Big League Chew generated $18 million in sales, capturing 8% of the bubblegum market. This surpassed Amurol’s other products, which collectively earned less than $8 million. Nelson and Bouton received a share of the profits.
Nelson’s intuition proved accurate: children adored the imitation chew, priced between 59 and 79 cents per pack. Candy distributors in Orlando reported weekly sales of 25,000 pouches. Competitors like Chaw emerged but faded quickly. Young baseball players could enjoy as much gum as they wanted and save the rest in their pockets. However, some parents expressed concern over the product’s association with tobacco, fearing it might serve as a gateway to real tobacco use and health risks.
Nelson and Amurol handled the criticism gracefully. Nelson often emphasized his personal disdain for chewing tobacco, framing Big League Chew as a preventive measure rather than a cause of tobacco use. A 1992 California bill aiming to ban the gum, along with candy cigarettes and similar products, failed in the Senate Judiciary Committee. Kids continued to enjoy the gum’s fruity flavors, while Amurol’s attempt at a Popeye-themed spinach-like gum failed to replicate Big League Chew’s success.
In 2000, Nelson acquired Bouton’s stake in Big League Chew and has stayed with the brand through its transitions, including its shift from Wrigley (acquired by Mars Inc. in 2008) to Ford Gum in 2010. Annual sales have consistently ranged between $10 and $13 million, with no evidence linking the product to tobacco use among children.
In February 2019, the packaging featured its first female player. Over the years, the design has showcased various artwork and retired players. In 2013, active players Matt Kemp of the Los Angeles Dodgers and Cole Hamels of the Philadelphia Phillies (now with the Chicago Cubs) appeared on the packaging. Despite its name, Big League Chew has never been officially associated with Major League Baseball, which has partnered with brands like Bazooka and Double Bubble.
The absence of MLB endorsement hasn’t hindered its success. To date, over 800 million pouches of Big League Chew have been sold.
