It is game day on the North Shore. If you walk past the tailgates near Acrisure Stadium, you’re going to see a sea of black and gold, but you’re also going to see a very specific kind of aluminum clutter. I'm talking about Pittsburgh Steelers beer cans. These aren't just trash. To a Yinzer, a commemorative Iron City can from 1978 is basically a religious relic.
People honestly go crazy for these things. It doesn't matter if it's a brand-new Bud Light "Steelers" edition or a rusted-out Duquesne Brewing flat-top from the sixties. There is a deep, almost irrational connection between the city’s brewing history and its football team. This isn't just about drinking; it’s about a physical piece of history you can hold in your hand while you scream at the TV.
The Iron City Connection
You cannot talk about Pittsburgh Steelers beer cans without talking about Iron City. Period. Pittsburgh Brewing Company basically pioneered the commemorative sports can. Back in the 70s, when the Steel Curtain was busy winning four Super Bowls in a decade, Iron City was right there. They started putting the team's schedule on the cans. They put the players' faces on the cans. They even made those famous "Super Bowls IX, X, XIII, and XIV" commemorative sets that every single grandfather in Western Pennsylvania still has sitting on a dusty basement shelf.
Seriously, go into any finished basement in Dormont or Bethel Park. You'll find them. Usually, they are stacked in a pyramid.
Iron City wasn't just a local brand; it was the identity of the fan base. The beer itself? Well, let's just say it's an acquired taste. It’s a classic American adjunct lager—crisp, a little metallic, and best served ice cold. But the can? The can was the trophy. In 1976, Iron City released a series that featured individual players. Finding a Jack Lambert or a Franco Harris can back then was like finding a golden ticket. It turned beer drinkers into collectors overnight.
Why Some Cans Are Worth More Than Your Game Ticket
Most of these cans are worth about five cents in aluminum scrap. That is the cold, hard truth. Because millions of them were produced, they aren't exactly "rare" in the traditional sense. However, if you have a Steelers beer can from a specific era or with a specific printing error, things get interesting.
Take the "unopened" factor. Some collectors insist on "bottom-opened" cans. This is where a fan would use a church key to punch two holes in the bottom of the can to drain the beer, leaving the top pull-tab intact. This makes it look like a full, pristine can on the shelf. If you have an original 1970s Iron City Super Bowl can that is bottom-opened and has no rust, you might be looking at $20 to $50. Not enough to retire on, but enough for a decent lunch.
The real money is in the pre-1970s stuff. Before the "Super Bears" and the "Terrible Towel" era, Duquesne Brewing (The Prince of Beers) had the Steelers' rights. Finding a Duquesne "Duke" can with a Steelers logo from the 1950s or early 60s is like finding a needle in a haystack. Those can easily fetch hundreds of dollars at auction, especially if the graphics are still vibrant.
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What to look for in a collectible can:
- Rust levels: Even a tiny bit of "humidity spotting" drops the value.
- The Pull-Tab: Is it still there? Is it the old-school detachable tab or the modern stay-tab?
- The Seam: Older cans have a visible soldered seam. These are generally more valuable than the seamless modern aluminum.
- Player Likeness: Cans featuring specific Hall of Famers always outperform generic "Schedule" cans.
The Modern Era: Bud Light and Miller Lite
These days, the "official" beer of the NFL is usually one of the big national brands. Anheuser-Busch InBev pours millions into their Steelers partnerships. Every year, we get the Bud Light "Steelers" cans. They’re sleek. They’re matte finish. They look great.
But do they have the same soul?
Kinda. Maybe. It depends on who you ask. For a younger fan, the 2005 Super Bowl XL cans are their "Iron City moment." I remember when Miller Lite did those "Alumni" cans a few years back. They were actually pretty cool. They leveraged the nostalgia of the old players but on a modern vessel.
The interesting thing about modern Pittsburgh Steelers beer cans is the sheer volume of production. Because everyone has a high-def camera in their pocket and an eBay account, almost everyone who buys a commemorative 12-pack saves at least one can. This creates a surplus. If everyone saves it, it’s not rare. If it’s not rare, it’s not an investment.
But who cares? Most people aren't trying to pay their mortgage with a beer can. They keep it because it reminds them of the time Ben Roethlisberger made "The Tackle" against the Colts or when Santonio Holmes kept his toes down in Tampa.
The Craft Beer Invasion
Recently, we’ve seen a shift. The "official" cans are still there, but local craft breweries in Pittsburgh are getting crafty with it. Because of strict trademark laws, they can't always use the actual "Steelers" logo or the name. Instead, you see "City of Champions" branding or cans that happen to be black and gold with a very "football-adjacent" vibe.
Breweries like Voodoo, Dancing Gnome, or Grist House have mastered this. They release limited-run cans for home openers. These aren't just mass-produced aluminum; they often feature incredible custom artwork by local artists. These are the cans that people are actually hunting for now. They’re limited to maybe a few hundred cases, and once they’re gone, they’re gone.
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If you're a serious collector, you're looking at the "unlicensed" but culturally significant cans. They capture the feeling of being a fan in the 2020s better than a corporate Bud Light can ever could.
Preservation: Don't Let Your History Rot
If you’ve got a collection of Pittsburgh Steelers beer cans in your garage, stop. Just stop. The garage is the worst place for them. The temperature swings cause the metal to expand and contract. This leads to "micro-cracks" in the lining, and if there is even a drop of beer left inside, it will eventually eat through the aluminum.
I’ve seen it a thousand times. A guy thinks he has a "mint" 1980 can, but it’s sitting in a puddle of 40-year-old skunked beer because the acid in the beverage finally won the war against the metal.
If you want to keep them:
- Empty them. Use the bottom-drain method if you must.
- Wash them out. Use warm water and a tiny bit of dish soap. If you leave sugar behind, you're inviting mold.
- Dry them completely. Use a hair dryer on a cool setting if you have to.
- Display away from sunlight. UV rays are the enemy of black and gold paint. It will turn your "Gold" into a weird, sickly "Mustard Yellow" in about three years.
The Weirdest Steelers Cans Ever Made
Let’s talk about the 1970s Iron City "Steelers/Pirates/Penguins" hybrids. These are weird. There was a time when the brewing company just threw every logo they had on a single can to celebrate "The City of Champions."
There was also the "Tall Boy" era. In the early 2000s, you could get 24-ounce cans that were basically the height of a toddler. They featured massive graphics of the stadium. They are incredibly hard to display because they don't fit on standard shelving, which makes them a bit of a pariah in the serious collecting community, but a favorite for "Man Cave" decorations.
And then there's the "Misprints." Every once in a while, a batch of cans would go through the line with the black ink slightly offset or the logo upside down. In the coin world, misprints are worth a fortune. In the beer can world? They’re just a fun conversation piece. Most collectors don't pay a premium for them unless it's a really egregious error.
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Identifying Your Cans
If you find a bag of cans in your attic, here is how you identify what you actually have. First, look at the top. Is it a flat top that requires a can opener? That’s pre-1965. Is it a "zip top" or "ring pull" where the tab actually comes off? That’s late 60s to mid-70s. If the tab stays attached to the can, it’s 1980s or newer.
Check the bottom for a "dating code." Most modern cans have a laser-etched "born on" date. For older Iron City cans, you have to look at the brewery address. If it says "Pittsburgh Brewing Co., Pittsburgh, PA," it's a standard run. If it mentions a specific anniversary, you’ve found a commemorative.
Actionable Steps for the Aspiring Collector
If you're looking to start a collection or deal with one you've inherited, don't just dump them on Facebook Marketplace for $5. Do a little legwork first.
- Check the BCCA: The Beer Can Collectors of America is a real thing. They have chapters in Pennsylvania. These guys are the scholars of the hobby. They can tell you the difference between a common 1975 run and a rare localized test market can.
- Go to "Can-Vention": Yes, that’s what it’s called. It’s the annual gathering of collectors. You’ll see more Pittsburgh Steelers beer cans in one room than you ever thought possible.
- Quality over Quantity: One pristine, bottom-opened 1970s can is worth more than a trash bag full of dented, rusted ones.
- Document your collection: Take photos of the seams and the tops. If you ever try to sell them to a serious collector, that’s the first thing they will ask to see.
Collecting these cans isn't really about the money, though. It's about the fact that every time you look at that 1979 Iron City can, you can almost hear Myron Cope's voice raspy and screaming about a "Double Yoi!" It’s a piece of the city's DNA, captured in a 12-ounce aluminum cylinder. Whether they are full or empty, they hold a lot of weight for people in this town.
Keep your eyes peeled at estate sales in neighborhoods like Polish Hill or the South Side. You never know when you're going to find a pristine set of "Duke" cans hiding behind a stack of old National Geographics. Those are the real treasures. Just make sure you wash the dust off before you put them on the mantle.
And for the love of everything holy, if you find an old can that is still full—do not drink it. Trust me. Aluminum and beer have a shelf life, and forty years is way past the expiration date for your stomach's well-being. Look at it, admire it, but keep the tab sealed.