Monday, February 02, 2015

Super Bowl XLIX Wrapup

Ok, it’s that time of year, the increasingly less-accurately named Annual Super Bowl Wrapup! So without further ado, here we go…

The Game:

You couldn’t have asked for a better game. (Well, I could have, but I hate the Patriots.) You had lead changes, miraculous catches, gutsy comebacks, a game that went right down to the wire, and of course, controversy. The two best teams played, and they looked like the two best teams out there on the field. You had previously unsung stars like Chris “Hardball” Matthews finding the right time to shine, and a last second whiff of nightmare as it seemed the Patriots might be felled in the Super Bowl by yet another impossible catch. No arguments with the game. Of course, there was that last play. But we’ll get to that after….

The Commercials:

The Super Bowl commercial has in many ways gone the way of the Saturday Morning Cartoon. In a 21st century world where no one has to wait for anything, the anticipation is gone. You could have watched most of these commercials a week before the game on YouTube. That being said, this year, the ad agencies managed to create a weird zeitgeist where so many of the commercials were so somber and depressing, it made McDonalds look like a Beautiful Paradise, the last remaining bastion of love and hope, which, hey, good on you, Mickey D.

Of course, the most horrifying example of this was Nationwide Insurance’s Dead Kid commercial. Here we get to see all of the delightful growing up experiences that one child will never enjoy. Why? BECAUSE HE’S DEAD! ENJOY YOUR SUPER BOWL, BITCHES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Really, Nationwide? Between this and invisible Mindy Kaling, it seems like someone decided the best way to sell insurance was to hire M. Night Shyamalan to direct your Super Bowl campaign. WHY? WHY? Between insurance sales being boring or horrifying, I think I’ll take boring. At least, during the Super Bowl. Save that shit for your American Horror Story spots.

The Play:

3 feet from the end zone, seconds left to play, victory in their grasp, and they call a quick slant pass. Truly abysmal. You’ve got the toughest back in football in Marshawn “Beast Mode” Lynch. Everyone in America knew you needed to put the ball in this guy’s hand. Everyone but Seattle’s offensive coordinator, it would seem.

Some may argue that that’s what the Patriots were expecting, so Seattle decided to mix it up with an aggressive strategy that’s worked for them before. First of all, they were expecting it because it would have WORKED. Sometimes the best move is the best move even if they know it’s coming. Second, if you’re going to mix it up, how about a fake to Lynch and a bootleg by Wilson, or have a tight end try to get separation and toss it in the back of the end zone? Throwing it right into the middle where all those guys who you KNOW are going to be there trying to stop that run are waiting is just stupid, sorry. Anything can happen. The receiver could get tripped up or blocked. The ball could bounce off a lineman’s shoulder and be up for grabs. The ball could be thrown too hard and end up in a defender’s bread basket. There’s no margin for error, no time to adjust, and so much can go wrong. WHY? WHY? Was Seattle’s Offensive Coordinator haunted by ghost children? Was he invisible and unable to call the right play? WHY?

The Halftime Show:

I’m not afraid to say it. I think Katy Perry is the bomb. She’s smart, pretty, and talented, what’s the problem? Some people say she presents an unrealistic image of women, a girl who is mother and child at the same time, and that her act is only appropriate for teenage girls and not a worldwide stage. Are you kidding me? I don’t care what anyone says, dancing sharks and riding a giant lion through a football stadium dressed like a flaming Cheeto is freaking awesome no matter how old you are. And to those of you who don’t think Katy Perry is talented, you try singing (or lip synching) when strapped to a rickety harness attached to the PSA Star. I dare you.

All right, that about wraps it up. See you next year, and may all your balls be properly inflated!

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