The Super Bowl is a microcosm of America. It’s not just a game, it’s an event. If there are two things that define Americans, it’s being fat and having an obsession with celebrities. The Super Bowl puts these together like nachos and cheese.
Speaking of which, people break the bank to buy ungodly amounts of chips, dip and beer to be devoured while sitting on a couch and watching football. It’s a little unhealthy, but it’s still the description of my ideal day.
The Super Bowl, just like our culture, is commercially driven. Companies spend absurd amounts of money for 30-second spots that have drastically declined in quality over the past decade.
On a related note, I hate people who are more into the commercials than the game itself. They are about as annoying as the box board obsessors. These people conjure up all the possible scenarios for the score to fit their numbers.
“Ya, if they get a safety and a field goal by the end of the quarter you’re going to win. Sweet, brah.”
Quite frankly, I can’t handle watching the big game with anyone, especially when I’m personally invested in it. I have a newfound respect for Peyton Manning after FOX continually showed him interacting with no one. His height of 6-foot-5 and laser, rocket arm are the only thing separating us now.
And while we’re talking about celebrities, if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was 1995, based solely on who showed up. Jim Carrey, Jenny McCarthy and LL Cool J? Really? And Tom Petty for the halftime show? You had to be 35 or older to remember when these guys weren’t C-listers.
How the media hypes a game for two weeks and is still able to have a six-hour pregame show, I will never know.
We heard the same analysis over and over, and perhaps that made the outcome of the game that much sweeter, for Giants fans anyway. I’m still in shock that the G-men pulled it off. Perhaps the tide is turning in the Boston-New York rivalry? If so, watch out for the Knicks.
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