Throwing an octopus onto the ice is a Detroit Red Wings playoff tradition that dates back to 1952. The eight tentacles originally represented the eight wins a team needed to capture the Stanley Cup, and the ritual stuck as a good-luck charm for more than seven decades.
How It Started
On April 15, 1952, two brothers named Pete and Jerry Cusimano, who ran a shop in Detroit’s Eastern Market, hurled an octopus onto the ice at Olympia Stadium during the playoffs. At the time, the NHL playoff format had only two rounds, meaning a team needed exactly eight victories to win the Stanley Cup. Eight tentacles, eight wins. The Red Wings swept both series that year, going 8-0, and the octopus got the credit.
The symbolism doesn’t map as neatly to the modern playoff format, which requires 16 wins across four rounds. But the tradition long outlived its original math. Fans kept throwing octopuses during playoff games, and eventually during regular-season games too, turning it into one of the most recognizable rituals in North American sports.
Al the Octopus and the Arena Ritual
The tradition became so embedded in Red Wings culture that the team created an official mascot around it. A purple octopus character debuted in drawn form and then as a large prop during the 1995 playoffs. The mascot was eventually named “Al” after Al Sobotka, the longtime building operations manager at Joe Louis Arena (and later Little Caesars Arena). Every playoff year, Al the Octopus is raised to the rafters as the Red Wings skate out for their first game, a ceremony fans treat with genuine reverence.
How Fans Sneak One In
Getting a dead octopus past arena security is its own subculture. One fan who documented the process in detail described defrosting the octopus for five days, then soaking it in lemon juice and garlic for 48 hours to mask the smell. He triple-bagged it in ziplock bags, then used layers of plastic wrap to strap it flat against his torso under a hoodie and jersey. At 6 feet and 195 pounds, he said he looked closer to 240 or 250 with the octopus on. He made it through the metal detectors, pulled the bags out from under the wrap at his seat, and launched it onto the ice.
Not everyone is that meticulous. Some fans simply stuff a smaller octopus into a jacket pocket or bag and hope security doesn’t notice the smell. The more elaborate the concealment, the less likely a pat-down catches it.
What Happens If You Get Caught
Throwing anything onto the playing surface violates NHL rules, and the consequences are real. When a fan named Nick Horvath tossed an octopus during a 2017 season opener at Little Caesars Arena, he was ejected, charged with a misdemeanor, and issued a court order. Detroit city law makes it illegal to throw any object that could cause injury or damage at an athletic event.
The Red Wings confirmed Horvath was not permanently banned from the arena, just ticketed and released. But the risk of a criminal charge, ejection, and a fine is always on the table. The team’s official position is straightforward: the NHL prohibits objects on the playing surface, and anyone caught will be ticketed by the Detroit Police Department. That policy carried over unchanged from Joe Louis Arena to Little Caesars Arena.
In practice, the enforcement creates a strange tension. The team celebrates the tradition through its mascot, its branding, and its arena rituals, while technically supporting the league’s ban on the act itself. Fans who throw an octopus know they’re likely sacrificing their ticket and possibly catching a misdemeanor charge. Most consider it worth it.
The Animal Rights Debate
PETA has repeatedly called on the Red Wings to crack down on the tradition, arguing that octopuses are highly intelligent animals who use tools, communicate through patterns of light and color, and form social bonds. PETA president Ingrid Newkirk put it bluntly: “it’s no more acceptable to kill one for such a disrespectful, frivolous, and stupid purpose than it is to throw dead bear cubs onto the ice during a Bruins game.”
PETA has proposed that the team screen fans for concealed octopuses at the door, raise fines from $500 to $5,000, and permanently ban anyone who throws one. As an alternative, they’ve suggested fans celebrate with cruelty-free plush octopus toys instead. The Red Wings have not adopted any of those suggestions, and the tradition continues largely unchanged, with fans weighing personal ethics, legal risk, and loyalty to one of hockey’s most enduring rituals.