Sack is back: The 1990s game for stoners is the latest craze for a different crowd

The game consumed the greening campuses of Maryland’s private boys schools in a matter of days this spring.

One day, teen boys were filling their free time studying or kicking around a soccer ball in their usual friend groups, and the next they were obsessed with using their feet to toss a bean bag like stoners on 1990s college campuses.

Hacky sack, in its latest incarnation, arrived with a flash in oh-so-2026 style, spreading through social media with a wildfire that even surprised teenagers. No one seems to be able to pinpoint who started the trend that has made the little sacks hard to buy, but it took to the Northeastern private schools and was then taken up by their sisters and public school students.

“It went from zero to 60. It went from one kid playing, and the next day it was the entire Upper School. It’s really wild, but it’s kind of delightful,” said Jon Becker, an English teacher and soccer coach at Boys’ Latin in Baltimore, as boys played on the field nearby on a bright May day.

Born during a counterculture moment in 1972, hacky sack reemerged this year among boys wearing button-up shirts, ties and Sperrys who were definitely not stoned. But for them it is an antidote to the divisive, competitive online life common in 2026. Teens play it outside, away from their cellphones. It even unites boys who wouldn’t usually spend time together.

They call it, simply, “sack.”

With the hashtag #spreadsacknothate on Instagram accounts, the game is supposed to be fun, not serious competition. Some students said they have vague knowledge of it from their parents and teachers who played in the 1990s.

“I‘ve been in some sack circles with teachers, and it’s kind of awesome,” said Billy Smyth, a Gilman School senior. “A lot of the younger teachers played a lot in college, and they’ll come over and see a circle and be like, ‘Oh my God, I used to do this all the time.’”

The resurgence seems to have started in mid-April — on April 16 to be exact — according to Google Trends, which tracks the popularity of search terms. For a few days there was growing interest, and then on April 23 its popularity skyrocketed across the country.

Several private school boys said they believe recent changes in policies that forbid students from using phones, even during free periods and recess, helped hacky sack take hold.

The game is played standing in a circle. Players toss a small sack, filled with sand or beans, to one another. As in soccer, players can’t catch the sack with their hands, and they can’t let it hit the ground. Instead, they try to catch it with their feet, or on their chest or back, and then fling it to another player. Every player has to have a turn.

“It’s so much fun,” said Alex Barczak, a senior at Boys’ Latin. “You’re always getting better. It’s not like you reach a limit, because there’s so much creativity,” he said, adding that everyone can add their own style and tricks.

Players also say it has become a great equalizer. No one has much expertise because the game is brand new to most teenagers, Becker said, so athletes and non-athletes can play.

“You circle up, and you end up talking about life as you’re playing. It’s sort of a little distraction that actually gets them talking,” Becker said.

The teenagers play facing each other, so there’s more real-time interaction than usual.

“I think the one thing that is different about this is that you need to be outside and with other people, like the communal aspect of it,” said Michael McGlynn, a senior at Loyola Blakefield, a private Catholic school in Baltimore County. He likes to “hang out and forge those bonds with everyone you are playing with.”

Within days of its introduction on social media, private school boys had begun creating Instagram accounts for their schools with videos that showcased their sack tricks and creativity.

On April 23, Aidan Gunther, an enterprising junior at the Severn School in Anne Arundel County, decided it was time to create an Instagram account that brought together all the private school accounts.

He created MIAA Sack Report, a take-off of the Maryland Interscholastic Athletic Association lacrosse Instagram account. “I do play,” Gunther said, but “I am more interested in handling the account.”

Gunther watches videos of players posted on 11 school accounts and decides rankings for the week. Most schools will post at least once a day, Gunther said. He judges creativity, technical skill and frequency of posts.

The trend, he said, is spreading among girls and to public schools.

A sack — or ball — costs $6-$10, although you may not be able to find one to buy. Loyola High School boys have a small supply that was purchased eight years ago for a fundraiser. The faculty found them and started distributing them.

At Boys’ Latin, the kids have a limited supply and take what they can get. They would like to have sacks filled with sand, but they are more often using ones filled with beads that pop out.

One boy crocheted his own.

For Carlton Saunders, store owner and manager of Play it Again Sports in Timonium, the first sign of the coming rush on sacks arrived from the mouth of his teenage son. “One day he came in the house and said, ‘Hey, I need to get a hacky sack from the store.’”

Saunders has always carried hacky sacks. “My first order of 40 lasted a year. And then we probably sold 100 in a couple of weeks,” he said.

Suppliers can’t fulfill the stores’ orders fast enough, he said.

Gilman students said they believe the craze may be tapering off, or maybe the level of obsession was just unsustainable.

One day when Smyth had a number of free periods, he went hacky sack crazy. “I think I played hacky sack for close to five hours,” he said. “I know I wouldn’t be able to sustain that over more than, like, a week or two.”

Even if it isn’t played obsessively forever, hacky sack is definitely back for a bit. The boys said they intend to keep playing during the summer and take it to college in the fall.

About the Education Hub

This reporting is part of The Banner’s Education Hub, community-funded journalism that provides parents with resources they need to make decisions about how their children learn. Read more.