In the midst of Super Bowl LX’s high-energy spectacle—complete with roaring crowds, halftime extravaganzas, and the Seattle Seahawks’ decisive victory over the New England Patriots—Budweiser delivered something unexpectedly gentle. Their 60-second spot, titled “American Icons,” arrived not with explosions or celebrity cameos but with a profound stillness that spoke volumes. Opening under a vast Tennessee sky, the ad unfolds as a tender narrative of displacement, unlikely companionship, and the quiet courage required to embrace one’s true nature. The tagline—“I NEVER ASKED TO BE SEEN — I ONLY KNEW HOW TO FLY.”—serves as both a whisper from the past and a resonant echo that lingers long after the screen fades.
The commercial begins in a serene rural setting, evoking the rolling hills and open expanses of East Tennessee. A young Clydesdale foal wanders beyond the familiar confines of his stable, drawn by curiosity to a fallen tree where a tiny, newly hatched bald eaglet rests alone. The foal approaches cautiously, and in that simple moment of encounter, a bond forms. No dialogue interrupts the scene; instead, Lynyrd Skynyrd’s iconic “Free Bird” begins its slow build, the guitar’s mournful intro mirroring the eaglet’s vulnerability. The horse, strong yet gentle, becomes an unlikely guardian, offering warmth and protection to the bird who cannot yet fend for itself.
As the seasons turn in graceful time-lapse, the two grow together. The Clydesdale matures into the majestic, feathered-hoofed icon synonymous with Budweiser for nearly a century and a half, while the eagle—named Lincoln in real life—develops powerful wings under the horse’s steady presence. Their friendship defies expectation: the grounded strength of the Clydesdale complements the soaring freedom of the eagle. They share sunrises over misty fields, navigate gentle streams, and rest side by side in quiet companionship. The visuals are breathtaking—sweeping drone shots of the Tennessee landscape, golden-hour light filtering through trees, and close-ups that capture the texture of fur and feathers, emphasizing authenticity over artifice.
The emotional core arrives when the eagle, now fully grown, faces the inevitable pull of his destiny. He has never learned to hunt in the wild due to his early circumstances, yet the instinct to fly remains undeniable. The Clydesdale stands watch as Lincoln spreads his wings for the first time in earnest, lifting off the ground in a tentative ascent. The camera lingers on the horse below, watching his friend rise higher and higher against the endless sky. There is no dramatic farewell, no triumphant music swell—just the raw beauty of release. The eagle circles once, a silhouette against the clouds, before soaring out of frame. The Clydesdale remains rooted, head raised, a silent witness to transformation.
This moment of departure carries the ad’s deepest resonance. The tagline appears overlaid on the sky: “I NEVER ASKED TO BE SEEN — I ONLY KNEW HOW TO FLY.” It speaks from the eagle’s perspective—a creature who never sought the spotlight, only the freedom inherent to his being. In the context of Budweiser’s 150-year legacy, the line also reflects the brand’s own journey: born in humble Midwestern roots, quietly enduring through generations, suddenly thrust into national consciousness through iconic imagery like the Clydesdales. The ad subtly honors America’s upcoming 250th birthday by intertwining these symbols—the steadfast Clydesdale representing enduring strength and the bald eagle embodying liberty and aspiration.
What elevates the spot beyond sentiment is its grounding in reality. Lincoln, the eagle featured, is no CGI creation but a living bird from the American Eagle Foundation in Kodak, Tennessee. Hatched in 1998 at the sanctuary, Lincoln could not be raised by his parents and failed twice at wild release due to his inability to hunt independently. Instead, he found purpose in education and public appearances, including flying during Philadelphia Eagles home games. His inclusion brings authenticity to the narrative, reminding viewers that true stories of resilience often unfold quietly, away from cameras, before being shared on the world’s biggest stage.
Directed by Academy Award-nominated filmmaker Henry-Alex Rubin, known for his empathetic storytelling in documentaries and features, the ad prioritizes emotional truth over flash. The pacing is deliberate: long, unbroken shots allow viewers to breathe with the characters, to feel the weight of growth and separation. “Free Bird” plays a crucial role—not as ironic backdrop but as a perfect companion track. The song’s extended guitar solo during the eagle’s flight captures the exhilaration and melancholy of letting go, turning what could have been a simple friendship tale into something profoundly moving.
Audience response proved immediate and overwhelming. The commercial topped USA Today’s Ad Meter for Super Bowl LX, marking Budweiser’s 10th time claiming the top spot and the second consecutive year for a Clydesdale-led story. Viewers flooded social media with reactions: many admitted to tears, calling it a return to the heart-tugging Budweiser classics of old. Comments praised the absence of forced messaging, the celebration of American icons without overt patriotism, and the subtle nod to heritage amid a year of milestone anniversaries. Some drew personal parallels—parents watching children leave the nest, friends parting ways, or anyone who has ever had to release what they nurtured.
In a landscape of increasingly noisy advertising, “American Icons” stands apart by embracing restraint. It doesn’t sell beer through humor or celebrity; it invites reflection on growth, loyalty, and the bittersweet nature of change. The Clydesdale doesn’t chase after the eagle or mourn dramatically—he simply watches, proud and steady, embodying the quiet support that defines true companionship. The pause at the end, as the sky clears and the music fades, becomes the ad’s most powerful element: a moment for viewers to linger on their own stories of flight and farewell.
Budweiser has long understood the power of emotional storytelling, from the Clydesdales’ annual holiday journeys to tales of reunion and perseverance. This 2026 entry reaffirms that tradition while evolving it—pairing two enduring symbols in a narrative that feels timeless yet urgently relevant. In celebrating 150 years of brewing heritage alongside America’s approaching semiquincentennial, the brand reminds us that icons aren’t born in the spotlight; they emerge from humble beginnings, forged through resilience and unexpected bonds.
As the final frame lingers on the empty sky and the steadfast Clydesdale, the message settles in: sometimes the greatest acts of love involve stepping back, allowing another to soar. “I NEVER ASKED TO BE SEEN — I ONLY KNEW HOW TO FLY.” In those words lies the ache and beauty of transformation—a gentle reminder that even the softest wings can carry profound weight. In a world that often demands spectacle, Budweiser offered stillness, and in that pause, everything lingers.
