The Texas Rangers were the first team in professional sports to sell ballpark nachos, and the original pitch from the man later known as “The King of Nachos” wasn’t an easy sell.
The idea took shape in 1976, when Frank Liberto, founder of Ricos Products, saw an opportunity. Nachos themselves had been around since 1943, when Ignacio Anaya improvised the dish just across the border in Mexico. By the 1960s and 70s, nachos were popular in Texas restaurants and fairs, but the traditional process took 10–15 minutes to prepare, far too slow for stadium concessions. Liberto believed the snack could work at scale, if it was completely rebuilt for speed. He brought that vision to the Rangers at Arlington Stadium.
The Rangers were hesitant. Nachos weren’t proven. Team officials worried the unfamiliar food would cut into hot dog and popcorn sales, slow concession lines, and disrupt a system built on efficiency and predictability. Still, they struck a cautious agreement. Liberto could sell nachos only from separate carts, had to build and operate them himself, and would take on all the financial risk. One more key condition: jalapeños would be included on every order, not optional. The logic was simple: spicy food makes fans thirsty, and thirsty fans buy more beer and soda.
Liberto responded by reinventing nachos for stadium scale. He developed a pourable, shelf-stable cheese sauce that could be heated quickly and served instantly, no baking, no plates, no waiting. What the Rangers feared would hurt concessions ended up expanding the entire concession economy.
The impact was immediate. In the first season, Rangers fans bought nachos at a rate of roughly one order for every 2.5 fans, generating around $800,000 in revenue. Popcorn. once the king of ballpark snacks, was purchased by only one in 14 fans. By 1979, the Rangers sold approximately 531,000 orders of nachos in a single season, compared to just 92,000 orders of popcorn. Nachos didn’t just catch on, they dominated.
After the success at Arlington Stadium, nachos were popularized nationally. Word spread to other teams, and a mention by broadcaster Howard Cosell on Monday Night Football in the late 1970s helped accelerate their rise beyond baseball. Within a few years, what started as a cautious experiment in Arlington became a stadium staple across the country.
The cheese sauce created for those first Rangers carts became the foundation of Ricos Products, launching a concession empire. The company is headquartered in San Antonio, but still operates a manufacturing facility in the city where its famous nacho sauce was born.
Today, Ricos products are featured in 100+ stadiums nationwide, appear in roughly 60% of U.S. movie theaters, and generate over $150 million in annual revenue.
All because the Rangers took a hesitant chance, and became the first team to prove nachos belonged in the ballpark🧀⚾️
#Texas LHP Dylan Volantis was noncommittal to whether he would be back in his closing role, or on the hill for Friday nights:
“I’m not a starter, or a closer, I’m a Longhorn.”
I battled cancer for the first 12 years of my life eventually losing my eyesight…but walking out of the Rose Bowl that night was still the worst moment of my childhood.
Quinn Ewers said he had multiple offers from college programs but opted for the NFL instead, because he didn't want to damage any legacy or relationships he built at Texas.
He was a lifelong Longhorns fan, which helped him make his decision:
"My 10-year-old self wouldn't have transferred away ... I think that's important for these younger kids to take away -- stop being focused on the material things and start building relationships that will last you a lifetime."
NEW: Texas QB Arch Manning becomes the first player in program history with a passing, rushing and receiving touchdown🤘
(via @UT_Bianco)
https://t.co/VyjeIgbsma
Steve Sarkisian opens the SEC Coaches Teleconference with comments on his status at Texas: "I'd like to comment something before I get into our team that has been bothering me now over the past few weeks. That is people reporting that are insinuating that there's a possibility I could leave the University of Texas, and that is absolutely false and untrue.
I'm not going anywhere. Never do I do this because I never want to be a distraction, so I never address these things. At this point, I feel like this is important that I do this because it's important for our team. It's important for our university. I've had no discussions, not with my agent, not with the university, not with any other school, not with any NFL team about ever going anywhere else. I came here to win championships.
I've got two kids enrolled at the University of Texas, one in law school, one on our team. I've got a third that hopefully decides to enroll at the University of Texas next fall. My wife and I just had our son here in Austin. This is our home. We came here to win championships. We've built a damn good football program over the five years that we've been here. We've been to two College Football Playoffs. We won a Big 12 championship. We went to the SEC Championship game in year one. We've had 23 players drafted the last two years, which is more than any other school in the country and our team GPA is at an all-time high. Can we please stop putting things out there that you have absolutely zero evidence on? Can we please stop retweeting and putting it back out there as if it's true? As if it's the gospel? It is not true. If you have a question about my future, call me or call Chris Del Conte our athletic director and we can set the record straight for you so everybody understands.
So moving forward, when some Joe Blow decides to put something on social media out there, we all don't run with it like it's the gospel. Can we all agree on that on this call? If you have a question about my future with the University of Texas, ask me on one of these calls. Ask Chris Del Conte. He'll be more than happy to take your call so that we can set the record straight and so we can focus on our football team, which is what we should be doing. Everybody good with that?"