I am a sports fan. I have been one since I was a very young boy. My first, most consistent, self-motivated reading was the sports page. On a daily basis, I used to memorize the winning percentages of all the baseball teams in the American League and especially within the Twins division. To this day, I have an uncanny ability to remember numbers.
Like many sports fan these days, I sit in repulsed horror at what media, money, and the need to win have done to sports generally. This morning I was practicing yoga and my nearly nine year-old son Paul was watching cartoons in the other room – I think he was watching SpongeBob SquarePants. I could feel him grow restless and start flipping channels. He turned on ESPN and the Super Bowl coverage had already began more than eight hours before kick-off. I have to admit I was relieved when Paul flipped back to SpongeBob within minutes. The other day I saw a beer commercial that was referring to the 3 million dollar a minute price tag for advertising during the game. The gist was that this beer would only need one second of time to sell itself.
My family is going to a neighborhood Super Bowl party. My wife Jennifer could care less about sports in general and the Super Bowl in particular. But the last few years she has been going to parties and having fun. This year she decided to go the whole nine yards, or at least her version of it. She is wearing an Ohio State Buckeye's t-shirt. She found it last year on sale for 10 dollars in the store where she was buying sneakers for Paul. She has absolutely no connection to Ohio State. She just liked the color, the price, and the irony of owning a sports jersey. For this year's Super Bowl, she wanted to cheer for a particular team. Her criterion was whichever team had the cutest player on it. (I believe this is also how she decided to become a hockey cheerleader in high school.) So this morning, she pulled up the laptop and, with Paul's help, surveyed a few of the player's photos. Of course, Jennifer could care less about any of this. But her absurd plans are her way of protesting a senseless event while also following the old adage, "If you can't beat'em, join'em."
All this is to say nothing of the actual game. I believe it is the most widely watched yearly event in the world. It now even has a halftime rock concert. One of my friends in California – who also could care less about football – writes down all of the advertising during the game. Not only does she want to see what company is willing to spend the most, she also thinks that the commercials taken as a whole, i.e. what companies and products are being pushed, give an interesting snapshot into our culture at this point in time. I do have to say that the commercials are now perhaps my favorite part of the Super Bowl. The advertising companies seem to be in competition to make the most memorable commercial.
As a cultural phenomenon, the actual football game is almost a sideshow. I have mixed feelings about this. Our culture is amazingly distractible. Thirty years ago the Super Bowl was not a central news event – it was a sports story. In the scheme of things, a sports story is little more than a passing fancy. When I watch the attention and excess that surrounds the Super Bowl, when I actually take it in, I feel a little nauseous. It is this distractibility that allows us to fixate on Brad and Angelina, on OJ Simpson, or on Britney Spears, rather than meaningful news. It is this distractibility that will be our undoing.
On the other hand, Super Bowl Sunday is a meeting ground, a time and place where people get together without the pressure and expectation of the Holidays. They share food, drink beverage, and collectively engage in folly. If the Super Bowl is expansive enough to sweep Jennifer into its wake, then it truly is an inclusive event that allows a beleaguered and uncertain culture to collectively exhale. That is truly worth something. My plan is to greet the Super Bowl with open arms and then be glad that it is over. I will listen to people, laugh with people, share in the folly, but then go home, sleep, and start the next day. Distraction for release is healthy. Distraction as a way of living is perilous.