The Quirky Story Behind Pogs

In the vibrant, neon-colored days of the late '80s and early '90s, slap bracelets adorned wrists, GameBoys occupied hands, and Trapper Keepers were everywhere. But amidst the explosion of new toys, one humble, low-tech toy reigned supreme—Pogs. Unbeknownst to kids at the time, they weren’t the first to be drawn to brightly-colored milk bottle caps for fun.

Did you ever stop to think that pogs started out as milk bottle caps? Surely, you heard about their origins on the playground, some half-forgotten rumor shared around the tetherball pole. But did you realize those little cardboard and plastic disks were once something far more practical—or at least, something actually useful?

The Menko Game

The roots of pog gameplay trace back to the traditional Japanese game of Menko (pictured above), which has been enjoyed since the Edo Period (1603–1867). In Menko, players would try to flip over their opponent's cards or discs, a concept that echoes the mechanics of modern pogs. Like pogs, Menko pieces were initially made the size of milk caps and depicted popular Japanese cultural figures, such as wrestlers and samurai. Unlike today's cardboard and plastic pogs, Menko pieces were crafted from clay, wood, or ceramics—though cardboard versions later appeared, becoming the predecessors of trading cards.

As Japanese immigrants settled in Hawaii during the early 20th century, they brought the game of Menko with them. Resourceful local kids began using milk bottle caps as makeshift Menko pieces, which were the perfect size and sturdy enough to play the game. Thus, the game of Menko gradually morphed into something closer to the modern version we know as pogs.

The Hawaiian Link

For years, Menko was a beloved pastime in Hawaii, including for the woman who would later help turn it into one of the most popular fads of the early '90s. In 1991, teacher Blossom Galbiso brought the game back to life when she introduced it to her students. Galbiso loved the game because she believed it taught math skills and gave her pupils a fun activity that didn’t involve potentially dangerous physical games like dodgeball. 

Galbiso and her students began collecting milk bottle caps to use in their games, particularly those from Maui's Haleakala Dairy. As the game spread throughout the islands, the Canadian company that produced the bottle caps was overwhelmed with requests for extra caps.

By 1993, the game had made its way to the mainland, first gaining traction on the West Coast before sweeping across the United States and eventually the globe. In other words, it became a dominant force, just like any great childhood fad.

Gameplay

Playing pogs isn’t just about mindlessly tossing and slapping them around, no matter how it might’ve looked during middle school lunch breaks. Like Menko, the goal in pogs is to flip your opponent’s pieces. Most schoolyard battles were serious affairs—really about winning those pogs, with players going “for keeps.” To play, both participants contribute the same number of cardboard pogs to form a large stack, all placed face down. The first player takes aim, slams a “slammer” onto the stack, and any pogs that fly out and land face up are now theirs. Rinse and repeat. Simple but fun, right?

The Cap and the Slammer

Pogs, as we know them, were born from a popular juice brand in Hawaii around the time Galbiso and her students revived the game. POG juice, made from passion fruit, orange, and guava, gave the drink its name. Like traditional milk bottle caps, POG tops were round, flat, and crafted from cardboard.

Guess who created POG juice? That’s right—the Haleakala Dairy!

As pog play advanced, the original cardboard tops just weren’t cutting it. Players needed something stronger, tougher, and, let’s face it, cooler to get the flipping action just right. Enter the slammers. Unlike the thin, cardboard pogs, slammers were thick and made from materials like metal, rubber, or plastic. As pogs evolved (goodbye milk caps! Hello, fun designs!), slammers evolved too. However, some people considered larger, heavier slammers as cheating tools (especially since metal slammers could easily dent the delicate cardboard pogs, which felt pretty rude).

The World POG Federation

As the pog craze exploded across the islands, a savvy businessman named Alan Rypinski snatched up the “POG” trademark from Haleakala Dairy and launched the World POG Federation. Pogs became the Kleenex, Windex, or Chapstick of the toy world—not every piece was technically a “pog,” but that’s what everyone called them, thanks to the WPF. The WPF organized tournaments, introduced a mascot named “Pogman” (of course), and decked out their pog products with eye-catching graphics, often featuring pop culture references to make them even more irresistible to kids.

Pog-ularity

As pogs spread across the country and the globe, they became a blank canvas for all sorts of images—not just from movies, toys, and sports, but also people and places (yes, even Bill Clinton got his own pog!). Some pogs had more noble purposes, too, such as promoting drug prevention, fire safety, or supporting charitable causes. If you could shrink an image or logo to the size of a milk cap, you could slap it on a pog.

Pogs were widely available in toy stores and comic book shops, but they quickly became a popular promotional item as well. Fast food chains like McDonald’s, Del Taco, Taco Bell, and Burger King jumped on the bandwagon, giving away branded pogs with purchases. Other companies followed suit, including Disneyland, Knott’s Berry Farm, Nintendo, and Kool-Aid. Pogs were everywhere, and if you wanted to advertise something, putting it on a pog was a surefire way to get attention. It wasn’t just a game; it was a full-blown cultural phenomenon.

The Bannings

Despite the widespread popularity of pogs, the gameplay didn’t sit well with parents, teachers, or school administrators. The main issue? Pogs were essentially a form of child-sized gambling, which led to distractions and, occasionally, schoolyard fights. Schools in the United States, Canada, Sweden, Iceland, Germany, the UK, and Australia all banned pogs, marking the beginning of the decline of the pog craze.

By the mid-'90s, pogs had lost their appeal, and no one really had to worry about banning them anymore. Like many fleeting fads, they faded out on their own, joining the ranks of slap bracelets, Furbies, and Cabbage Patch Kids in some kind of toy purgatory. That is, of course, until they eventually become retro collectibles and make their inevitable comeback—any day now, really.