During a 2011 press conference, Michigan defensive lineman Ryan Van Bergen cracked a joke about The Little Brown Jug: “I don’t think you’d want to drink any water out of that.”
True enough, but even if you wanted to take a swig, you’d be hard-pressed to make it happen. When I was doing my deep-dive Jug research a few years back, it was impossible to miss that the top is completely sealed off.
There used to be a cap and some ribbons affixed to the spout, but at some point, they were removed—and from the looks of it, aggressively torn off. I once asked legendary equipment manager Jon Falk about it, and even Big House Jon wasn’t sure exactly when that happened. Today, it would take a flathead screwdriver and some serious pliers to pry that top open. You’d really have to want it.
But why was the jug bought in the first place?
Obviously, at one point, this simple piece of earthenware did carry water for the team, but the truth of how and why it ended up on the U-M sideline in 1903 has shifted a bit over the decades. In the early days of the rivalry, popular lore held that Michigan brought the jug and the water all the way from Ann Arbor. Furthermore, some suggested that Fielding Yost was paranoid that the Gophers might attempt to spike or poison the visitors’ water supply.
Years later, player Tommy Roberts debunked a part of that myth, revealing that he had simply purchased the 5-gallon jug at a local store in Minneapolis just before the game.
While it’s entirely possible that Michigan wanted its own vessel to keep enemy hands off their immediate water supply, it actually wasn’t common practice for the Wolverines to haul water on road trips. It’s also highly doubtful that Yost genuinely feared foul play from Minnesota. The Wolverines were seasoned travelers by then—most notably trekking across the country to Pasadena for the inaugural Rose Bowl in 1902. As it turned out, bringing your own water to a road game provided zero competitive advantage, and worse, it was a massive logistical hassle.
Take a look at this quote from legendary trainer Keene Fitzpatrick, published just a few days before that fateful 1903 game:
“Carrying water to which the men are accustomed on a trip is a big nuisance and of no practical benefit,” said the trainer. “Once only, when the ’99 team went to Philadelphia, was this precaution taken by Michigan, and then we didn’t find that any advantage had been gained. On the long California trip the health of the team was not impaired by the change in drinking water.” — The Michigan Daily, October 28, 1903 [via John Kryk]
That last line implies that when teams did worry about water, they were actually more concerned about standard regional differences upsetting players’ stomachs (think about your last trip to Mexico) rather than deliberate sabotage. Because of that, Fitzpatrick determined it simply wasn’t worth the trouble to pack water for the road.
So where does that leave us? Of all the Little Brown Jug tales out there, the most believable explanation remains that Michigan bought the jug simply to ensure they controlled their own immediate, clean source on the sideline.
The 1903 game was absolutely massive—so tense that Minnesota even added extra security around their final practices to ensure no Wolverine scouts were peeking. While deliberate poisoning sounds extreme, the game itself was brutal; afterward, Michigan star Willie Heston’s face was swollen shut, and he claimed Minnesota players had repeatedly mashed him with their cleats throughout the afternoon.
So, did Yost genuinely fear a little foul play? Maybe a tiny bit. But in the end, it was likely just practical business on a legendary day.
Want more? Read Little Brown Jug Lore.
