Start with the fact that the world just watched the lowest-scoring championship game of the Super Bowl Era.
With bespoke rules specifically meant to suit offenses and generate lots of scoring – and two teams heretofore this season good at both – the NFL’s algorithms must be spitting sparks. Old linebackers might love 13-3, but the people who watch the ratings decidedly may not.
Gladys Knight. That rendition of The Star-Spangled Banner. She’s nearly 75 and her artistry and beauty are as incomparable as ever. They could have flown in The Pips for a halftime reunion and been better for it, but we’ll get to that.
While we’re at it, and even though they routinely pull it off, who doesn’t catch their breath every time a military flyover hits at exactly the right moment in the Anthem?
Yes, I watched the whole game. Best I can tell, almost 4 hours worth. Even the dogs gave up on me.
I’m not a Brady/Belichick/Patriots hater, but I wouldn’t want them knowing where the silverware is, either. I even found a way to like New England when Craig James played there. The Rams? Good grief. I grew up reverently whispering the name Merlin Olsen before Little House on the Prairie. Deacon Jones remains one of my favorite players ever, I tried to chew gun like Jack Youngblood, and loved Jim Bertelsen from his days at Texas. Just don’t get me started on the team’s owner. Let’s just say I watched neutrally this year, because it is an annual, um…event sociologique.
The Hyundai commercial made me smile, because we’ve all found ourselves getting off on what surely must be the wrong floor. I understand vegans felt shamed and didn’t favor it. That’s okay. They could have substituted a floor of Mid Level Managers and made it more annoying.
The teasers for Avengers: Endgame and Captain Marvel made me want to buy tickets right now. How does Marvel keep doing that? I started texting one of my sons (we are fellow SciFi geeks), and we compared notes. What were Tony and Nebula welding? How does Ant-Man get back? Was Cap’s hand trembling just before cinching up his old shield? Was Steve Rogers in group?
Star Trek: Discovery is pulling off what few shows ever have: breathing new life into a franchise that’s been brought back more times than McRib. The Spock teasers look great, but he just never seemed like a beard guy. Streaming also now has me. And while we’re on the subject of resurrections, Jordan Peele’s new Twilight Zone looks fantastic – although he’ll be hard-pressed to come up with anything stranger than current reality.
Pity the game didn’t live up to the MLK Jr. commercial that preceded it. And did you not enjoy Deion getting flattened into a banquet table during the NFL’s star-studded “100” ad? Just a little?
Spiked Seltzer is the new Zima.
Loved Jeff Bridges and Sarah Jessica Parker’s appearance as The Dude and Carrie in the ad for Stella Artois, but what really made me smile was former-Most Interesting Man Jonathan Goldsmith sitting at the bar – having the last laugh on Dos Whatever.
However they mic’ed the field, you could feel the hits. A lot of them felt like they hurt. The field-level shots from the swooping sky cam almost gave me vertigo. If I had 4K I would have needed dramamine. Romo, again, was amazing. Just give him a raise now, CBS.
Pepsi must have paid a ton for Steve Carrell, Cardi B and others, but I don’t know if they got their money’s worth. Yes, they have exclusivity, and they pulled it off in the hometown of Coca-Cola – but I don’t know if their big ads have connected since Michael Jackson. I hope in twenty years our AI overlords will find all of today’s AI commercials as funny as we do.
You may have caught a glimpse of NFL commissioner Roger Goodell and Amazon’s Jeff Bezos in presidential candidate and Starbucks CEO Howard Schultz’ private box. I wonder what kind of coffee they were serving?
I’ve long thought we’ve inculcated mantras such as “Just do it”, “Feed your thirst”, and “You deserve a break today” just a little too thoroughly into our daily behavior. Add to that list “It’s only worth it if you can enjoy it”. Yes, Michelob. More hedonism will solve everything.
Turbo Tax’ Robo Child now haunts my sleep. And tell me you weren’t a little happy that dragon roasted “Dilly-dilly!” right off the planet?
Thirty years ago when they wanted to make a splash, major-market radio stations would always buy time in major TV events to get their call letters in front of eyeballs. Super Bowl, Oscars, all of them. Sometimes we even did live ads during those shows, because they were considered that critical to making the station relevant. Thus, I notice who among potential local advertisers spend the $$$ for those local spot avails. And what I can say is that judging by tonight, Dr. Field Harrison must be making a lot of sexy teeth.
The person with the worst job in Super Bowl LII was whoever had to look for highlights to use in the halftime report.
If the new Mercedes A-Class isn’t one of the most-leased vehicles in coming years then I don’t know my $50,000 Dallas millionaires. And if you, like me, can eat your weight in mixed nuts before you realize the can is empty, two questions: Planters needs to advertise, and how much did Charlie Sheen’s agent get?
On the subject of actors, Harrison Ford did not come cheap for Amazon – and the Boston terrier totally upstaged him. Ford appeared to have enjoyed it, but with Harrison it’s hard to tell sometimes. You know he likes you if he talks to you.
Yes, please, Flaming Doritos – which also happens to be the name of my band. What if SimpliSafe decides what’s best is to lock you out of your house, huh? What then?? And if you waited, the Toy Story 4 trailer was worth the marathon.
I couldn’t take Tracy Wolfson nearly being trampled in the postgame. I half expected to see her crawling from under that enormous media dog pile like Zorro in the garrison’s barracks, eye-lash askew. I would have feared for my life. But there Wolfson was, mic in hand for Brady’s first thoughts. The only way to keep from being swept away by that horde must have been to grab onto Brady’s leg and hold on for dear life. In all seriousness, that was dangerous – and many are now calling for reporters to let the players have that celebratory time for themselves before swarming into what easily could have been trouble. I will say that Tom Brady’s little girl takes after Giselle, and sure seems to love her daddy. And how much fun to be that little with that much confetti pouring from the ceiling? You’d never settle for a party at Chuck E. Cheese again.
As for the halftime show, the internet is already saying it was one of the worst in history. I was alive to see Up With People. Trust me. It wasn’t that bad. Not everyone shares my musical tastes, nor do I get everyone else’s. But I do respect different genres of entertainment, and like to keep my mind open. Sometimes I’m surprised by how much I enjoy a lot of Rap and R&B. Maroon 5 is just fine, as was everyone else involved. It’s just that the bigger burrito is not always the better burrito. The audio always kinda sucks. I would simply point out that it now takes multiple acts to do what used to take just one. Ergo, using simple show business math, 1 Prince is greater than 5 maroons-plus. As for Adam Levine, if I had that torso I’d take my shirt off too. It’s just that he mostly reminds me of a singing eye chart. And no, marching bands aren’t ever coming back. Pepsi isn’t going to spend gazillions of dollars for a funny flossing college formation between the 30s, no matter how many step-off practices the horn section puts in. Them days is gone.
Oh, and one last thought: which of the two teams you saw this evening could the Cowboys not have beaten?
You’re welcome.
Kellen? Jon? Six months ’til training camp.
JD
2.3.19
