Superbowl?! Surely You Can’t Get More Than a Strike!!
Well, wasn’t that all low key? If there’s one thing you guys do well it’s restraint and modesty at sporting events. I particularly like how you don’t have giant jets of flame shooting 50 feet into the sky as the teams come onto the field through smoke and paper and god knows what. Oh and that half time show sure puts the Premier League staple of a beer and a meat pie and a bit of a chat into perspective. Wowzas.
Yes indeedy, as you have probably noticed unless you have been living on the moon, the Superb Owl has taken flight and its hoots will not be heard for another year. For a Superbowl virgin, the whole thing totally lived up to expectations. It went on all day, it was madder than Ray Lewis (going some), it was completely over the top and it was massively enjoyable.
I mean seriously, it is entirely mental. It was played indoors in the largest fixed dome structure in the world in front of 80,000 people. The half time show is put on by one of the biggest pop stars on the planet going all out so we can have more fire, more leather, and more gyrating scantily clad dancers than a presidential inauguration ball. The trophy is handed out on one of those floating podiums from the senate scene in Star Wars: Episode 1. The winners are crowned World Champions. Baseball, yeah, maybe, fine, Cuba, Japan, Mexico, Venezuala, fine. Just because you play one game in London, I think that’s pushing it.
The revolving sponsorship of the screens on the CBS analysts’ desk was hilarious. Not content to have Dan Marino’s hair taking up most of the space, when it was The Lone Ranger’s turn to hog the screen, all 18 analysts were there talking about hot routes and snapdragons and kickspin backeroos or whatever with Johnny Depp with a giant black bird on his head next to them. Seriously good call by the producer.
The ads really have become this kind of cultural phenomenon that are even talked about in the UK. The thing is, when people watch the game back home, all of the ads are exactly the same. Talking meerkats and ex-Punk band lead singers who really should know better. I have never been excited to see what ad people come up with before.
In the end, it was a range of things: Exciting (World War Z), Horrifying (Hottie eats ugly face – GoDaddy), Funny (Kia babies in space, Sure), Weirdly overtly sexual (Calvin Klein), and meh (the rest of the car ads). A little bit of a let-down given the hype, but I get what I deserve for being excited about commercials, exposing my wizened, bleeding, broken emotional center that has been crushed beneath the hobnailed capitalist boot-heel.
The game itself was a curious mix between inevitability and upset. I have been beguiled by this sport since landing in Boston in August, and I sort of know what’s going on, but “rooting” for the 49ers was a bit upsetting. Great post-light failure comeback obviously, but after a first half in which they offered little, it was just too far to come back. I sensed the inevitability of a Baltimore victory – if they can sponsor Johnny Depp’s head in the Lone Ranger, what can’t they do?