I think there may have been more social, tribal, collective and personal dynamics going on in that Super Bowl than any of the previous 55. That was some intense stuff. The losers I want to cry. And the winners want to retire. Some souls got wrecked. On both teams. Because even winning just hurt too much. I’m really kind of silent and reverent about this. On a knee, as it were.
You got a problem with that, Cupcake?
I saw guys’ genomes get rearranged. It was at once inspiring and really disturbing. I hope everybody’s family is ok. I saw guys’ shit get deeply disturbed. On both sides. It’s not going to get better today or a week from now. Families, please try to understand. Because he’s not going to be able to explain it to you. Because he doesn’t yet understand it himself. Some souls got deeply disoriented.
On both sides.
I hope I never get so petty and selfish and shrill that I throw a shit fit over the artists chosen for a Super Bowl halftime show. I really don’t think it’s anybody’s duty to cater to me. If folks are entertained, that’s good. I am past anybody’s and everybody’s target demo, unless you’re selling plot, dentures or fiber supplements. I get it. It’s ok. I thought the “shakedown” was unseemly. But the show? Dudes and dudettes, I had three different dips, a cold brew and a truly great football game I was fine.
And genuinely happy for everybody.
I have reviewed the NBC telecast of the Super Bowl. Here’s what I loved about Al Michaels and Cris Collinsworth. They treated it like a football game. They stayed in their shoes. No hyperventilation whatsoever.
That’s the way you do that.