He was terrifying. Let’s just start there. If you grew up in Philly or followed the NBA during the early 2000s, you remember the lean, muscular, slightly unsettling lagomorph known as Hip Hop the Rabbit. He wasn't your average fluffy mascot. Most teams go for "cuddly" or "goofy," but the Philadelphia 76ers decided to go for "menacing streetballer."
It didn't work. Well, it worked for a while, but then it really, really didn't.
The story of Hip Hop the Rabbit is a weird time capsule of 2000s marketing. It was a period where every brand was desperately trying to be "edgy." The 76ers were in the thick of the Allen Iverson era—a time of black jerseys, cornrows, and a cultural shift in the league. The team wanted a mascot that matched that grit. They ended up with a rabbit that looked like he spent eight hours a day at the gym and the other sixteen looking for a fight.
The Origin of the Most Intense Rabbit in the NBA
In 1996, the 76ers moved into the CoreStates Center (now the Wells Fargo Center). They needed a new identity. Before Hip Hop the Rabbit, there was Big Shot, a blue, Muppet-like creature that was, frankly, a bit boring. Management wanted something that would appeal to kids but also feel "cool."
They landed on a rabbit. But not a Bugs Bunny type.
Hip Hop was designed to be an elite athlete. The person inside the suit had to be a high-level gymnast or trampolinist. We’re talking about a mascot that could do double front flips off a trampoline and dunk a basketball with more aggression than most bench players. He wore a backwards cap, a wrap-around visor, and a baggy jersey. He was the personification of the "And1 Mixtape" era.
Honestly, the stunts were incredible. You’d see this rabbit fly through the air, performing mid-air contortions that made your knees ache just watching. But there was a disconnect. While the acrobatics were top-tier, the character design felt like it was trying too hard. He had these narrowed eyes and a permanent smirk. He didn't look like he wanted to give you a high-five; he looked like he wanted to take your lunch money.
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Why Fans Eventually Turned on the Rabbit
Philly fans are a different breed. You can’t fake authenticity with them. If you’re going to be "street," you better actually be from the street. Hip Hop the Rabbit felt like a corporate boardroom’s idea of what "urban" looked like.
By the late 2000s, the vibe started to shift. The Iverson era ended. The team was rebuilding. Suddenly, having a muscle-bound rabbit doing backflips felt like a relic of a past decade. Parents started complaining that the mascot was actually scaring their children. It’s hard to build a "family-friendly" atmosphere when your primary entertainer looks like a deleted character from a gritty reboot of Space Jam.
There was also the "coolness" factor. Or lack thereof.
The 76ers' ownership changed in 2011. Adam Aron took over as CEO and one of his first orders of business was to conduct a massive fan survey. The results weren't pretty for the bunny. People wanted him gone. He was seen as a remnant of an era the team was trying to move past.
The Great Mascot Search and the "Retirement"
In 2011, the team officially retired Hip Hop the Rabbit. They didn't just quietly stop using him; they made it a whole thing. They even joked that he had fallen in love, moved to a farm, and started a family. It was a polite way of saying, "We realize this was a mistake, please stop tweeting us about how creepy he is."
The 76ers then spent years without a mascot. They tried to let fans vote on a replacement. The options were... not great. There was a dog named "B. Franklin Dogg," a revolutionary war hero named "Phil E. Moose," and some other forgettable concepts. The fans hated all of them.
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It took until 2015 for the team to finally land on Franklin the Dog, the blue canine they use today. Franklin is safe. Franklin is cuddly. Franklin does not look like he’s about to challenge you to a cage match.
But here’s the thing: people actually miss Hip Hop the Rabbit now.
It’s that classic "you don’t know what you’ve got 'til it’s gone" irony. Or maybe it’s just nostalgia for the Iverson years. When you see old clips of Hip Hop soaring through the air at the First Union Center, there’s a raw energy there that modern mascots lack. He was a spectacular athlete. The guys inside the suit—like David Raymond’s team helped develop—were some of the best in the business.
The Cultural Legacy of a Failed Mascot
What can we actually learn from the rise and fall of Hip Hop the Rabbit?
First, mascots are hard. You’re trying to appeal to a four-year-old and a forty-year-old at the same time. If you lean too far into "cool," you lose the kids. If you lean too far into "cute," you lose the die-hard fans. Hip Hop leaned so far into "cool" that he fell off a cliff.
Second, branding has to be timeless. The "edgy" look of 1999 looked incredibly dated by 2009. While the Philly Phanatic (the gold standard of mascots) is a weird green thing that doesn't belong to any specific era, Hip Hop was tied specifically to the hip hop culture of the turn of the millennium. When the culture moved on, the mascot became a caricature.
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What to Do if You’re a Collector or Fan
If you’re one of the few who unironically loves the era of Hip Hop the Rabbit, you’re in luck because his merchandise is now "vintage."
- Check the Secondary Markets: You can still find old 76ers pennants, bobbleheads, and jerseys featuring the rabbit on eBay. Because he’s so polarizing, these items have actually become niche collectibles.
- Watch the Old Clips: If you want to see what peak mascot athleticism looks like, search for "Hip Hop 76ers dunking" on YouTube. Ignore the face; look at the hang time. It’s genuinely impressive stuff that most modern mascots can't replicate because they're wearing bulkier, "cuter" suits.
- Understand the Evolution: Compare Hip Hop to Gritty. Gritty works because he’s chaotic and weird, but he doesn't try to be "cool." He’s a nightmare, but he knows he’s a nightmare. Hip Hop was a nightmare trying to be a rockstar.
The era of the "tough" mascot is mostly over. We’ve returned to a time of soft fur and big, round eyes. But for a brief, shining moment in Philadelphia, a rabbit with a backwards hat and a serious attitude ruled the court. He was a product of his time—aggressive, athletic, and deeply, deeply strange.
To truly appreciate the history of the 76ers, you have to acknowledge the rabbit. He wasn't just a guy in a suit; he was a symbol of a team trying to find its soul in a post-Dr. J world. Whether you loved him or were terrified of him, you certainly didn't forget him.
The next time you see a boring, safe mascot at a game, just remember: it could be worse. You could be staring into the intense, unblinking eyes of a rabbit that looks like he just finished a set of heavy squats.
Embrace the weirdness of sports history. Collect the old gear if you find it, but maybe keep the bobblehead in a different room if you’re prone to nightmares. Some things are better left in the 2000s, but that doesn't mean they aren't worth remembering as part of the chaotic tapestry of Philadelphia sports.