I Pressed Play on Budweiser’s New Super Bowl Ad and Walked Away With Goosebumps, a Lump in My Throat, and a Whole Lot of Pride. A Clydesdale Foal. A Tiny Bald Eagle Chick. Two Symbols of America’s Soul, Growing up Side by Side Through Storms, Snowfall, Setbacks, and Strength. The Horse Steadies the Bird as It Learns To Fly. The Eagle Perches Proudly on the Horse’s Back, Fearless and Free. And Then That Moment — When the Eagle Finally Lifts Into the Sky as “Free Bird” Plays? That’s Not Advertising. That’s Americana.

BUDWEISER TELLS A STORY THAT AMERICA NEEDS TO HEAR, NOT JUST A MILESTONE.

As Budweiser approaches its 150th year of brewing beer on American soil, the brand isn’t throwing a party. It’s telling a myth — one built from muscle, feathers, dust, and patience. For Super Bowl LX, Budweiser brings back two of its most enduring symbols: the mighty Clydesdale and the American bald eagle. Together, they don’t sell a product. They remind a country who it has always believed itself to be.

This isn’t nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake. It’s heritage with weight.

The minute-long commercial, titled “American Icons,” opens at dawn. A young Clydesdale foal bursts from the stable, legs clumsy, heart fearless. Freedom, in its earliest form. In the open fields, the foal stumbles upon something fragile: a bald eagle chick, fallen from its nest, grounded before it ever learned to fly. The image lands quietly — no melodrama, no voiceover — just instinct and recognition.

What follows is not spectacle, but time.

Rain. Snow. Growth. Setbacks. The foal grows heavier. The eaglet grows braver. Together, they weather seasons the way America has always imagined itself doing — slowly, stubbornly, side by side. This is where Budweiser excels: telling stories that unfold like memory rather than narrative.

Set to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird,” the ad lets the music breathe. The song isn’t nostalgia bait — it’s a pulse. A reminder that freedom isn’t loud; it’s earned. As the animals mature, the bond deepens. The eagle learns to test its wings. The horse learns to wait.

And then comes the moment that stops viewers cold.

Fully grown now, the eagle mounts the Clydesdale’s back. Wings spread. For a brief second, the horse looks mythic — like a Pegasus pulled straight from the American imagination. Then the eagle lifts off, soaring skyward, leaving the horse grounded but proud. It’s not about leaving. It’s about becoming.

The final images pull back to something even quieter: a farmer watching, eyes wet. When asked if he’s crying, he deflects. “The sun’s in my eyes.” The line lands because it’s real — played by an actual Budweiser barley farmer. No actors pretending. Just someone who’s watched things grow long enough to know when it matters.

The screen fades to black.

“MADE OF AMERICA.”
For 150 Years, This Bud’s For You.

Budweiser’s senior marketing leadership has said the timing was intentional. As the United States approaches its 250th birthday, the brand wanted to mark its own anniversary by reflecting something larger than beer. Not division. Not noise. But continuity. The kind that survives weather, change, and disagreement.

Fans felt it instantly.

“This made me emotional and I didn’t even realize why,” one viewer wrote.
“Budweiser understands America better than most politicians,” another commented.
A third simply said, “This doesn’t feel like an ad. It feels like a promise.”

The Clydesdales’ return marks their 48th Super Bowl appearance — a staggering statistic in itself — and yet nothing about this spot feels recycled. Directed once again by Henry-Alex Rubin, the commercial avoids spectacle in favor of restraint. Even the bald eagle was handled with care, working alongside conservation experts to ensure authenticity over theatrics.

In an era where Super Bowl ads often scream for attention, Budweiser whispers — and somehow says more.

This is a brand betting that Americans still recognize themselves in symbols of patience, work, freedom, and mutual survival. That they still respond to stories where strength protects fragility, and flight doesn’t erase roots.

As one viewer put it:
“I didn’t feel marketed to. I felt seen.”

For a beer brand turning 150, that might be the boldest move of all.