Subscribe To
This Site
SUPER HYBERBOLE
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
We hold these truths to be self-evident in a drunken sort of way, that all men who watch football are created equal and are more equal than those who don’t, that they are endowed (tee hee) by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life Cereal™, Liberty Mutual™ and the pursuit of Happiness to watch a simple football game without fear of inundation from blatant militarism, chest-pounding patriotism and American Idol™ National Anthem singing hackery.
Seriously?! The Declaration of Independence?!?
Have the normally sensible and sagacious overlords at the Fox network absolutely lost their marbles or was I the only one gob smacked at the pre-game spectacle of football players past and present reciting the sacrosanct 232 year-old document? What in the Creator’s name does that have to do with football? Come to think of it, what does the Super Bowl have to do with football anymore? The game seems to be merely an after-thought, a vehicle to unveil new television ads -- each ch costing enough to retire the debt of any mid-sized European country-- and to overindulge in all things American including, but not restricted to, flag waving, cheap sentimentalizing and drawing dubious parallels between football and life.
I was once an ardent NFL fan. I can call up, without aid of any Google™ search whatsoever, huge swaths of early Super Bowl history. You want to talk #V? The then Baltimore Colts, avenging what until this year’s game had been the biggest upset in Super Bowl history two years prior at the hands of the brash Joe Namath-led New York Jets, beat the Dallas Cowboys, 16-13, on a late field goal. The Miami Dolphins capped the (still) only undefeated season by beating the Washington Redskins 14-7 in Super Bowl VII which featured the infamous Garo Ypremian (sp?--see, no spell-check) bobbled pass after a botched field goal attempt. The most fun team to ever win the Super Bowl was the #XI champion Oakland Raiders because you had a feeling that their QB, Kenny ‘The Snake’ Stabler, was inhaling a beer and a shot of Jack instead of oxygen on the sidelines while his coach, John Madden scarfed back chicken wings at halftime. The San Francisco 49ers’ defeat of the Cincinnati Bengals in Super Bowl XVI was anti-climatic after the playoffs that year yielded two of the greatest post-season games ever. The 49ers’ NFC championship victory over Dallas with Dwight Clark’s leaping, absolute back of the end zone TD catch and the Dolphins spotting San Diego 24 points, I believe, before storming back only to lose the AFC semi-final game in OT.
I could go on, but won’t. The point being, football once had me in its thrall but nowadays it just offends my sensibilities.
For most of us, it’s not unusual to drift away from the kind of obsessive attention to a sport we can develop as youngsters. We get older; our minds turn to more important matters like careers, relationships, and mortgage payments. Who can spare the space to commit such detail to memory? I have a hard time keeping track of my reading glasses. Still, you’d think I’d be able to sit down and enjoy what was supposed to be an historic football game. With enough Strongbow on board and jalapeño poppers to dip, I could giddily make it through at least a fraction of the nine-hour pre-game show, amusing myself with such witty bons mots as, ‘you’re analysing a football game, gentlemen, not planning the assault on Dunkirk!’ I even managed to stomach a bad John Madden imitation expressing a preference for Manhattan chowder over New England clam chowder rather than predicting the game’s outcome. OK, OK. Lay back, breathe deeply, calm yourself with another little something from the appetizer plate.
And then it happened, complete with soaring strings and a chorus of camouflage-clad Marines.
What exactly were we to take from the high-gloss presentation of the Declaration of Independence closing out the pre-game show? That the Founding Fathers forged one of the most essential manifestations of human aspiration to emerge from the Age of Enlightenment so Americans could play football, real football not that impenetrably slow and boring football the rest of the world plays, on any given Sunday? Hear ye, hear ye! The yoke of British oppression cast aside, for a new nation to be born, its citizens congregate in celebratory consumption and indulgence to witness incredible feats of speed, strength and posterior-patting!
I think maybe, just maybe, sports are taking themselves a little too seriously, bringing along a sizable portion of the population with them.
No matter how many people watch or how much money advertisers dish out to display their wares or whether the Vegas spread was beaten, football -- even the Super Bowl -- is still just a game. Those careless with their wagers aside, lives were not in the balance pending the final score. Peace in the Middle East was not achieved with the Giants’ victory. The world continued to spin despite New England’s failed attempt to remain undefeated. Sunday gave way to Monday and the only thing people really discovered about themselves was the few extra pounds they gained over the weekend.
I blame television for this state of affairs. While it has heaped untold wealth and fame onto those involved in the sports it broadcasts, the incessant coverage, on and off the field, has elevated athletics to mythical proportions while draining it of any lasting effects. How could one game possibly live up to the drumbeat of non-stop, around-the-clock hype? It’s like the inevitable disappointment we feel on Christmas night. No expectations can meet the standard set by 6 weeks of relentless build-up.
It’s in TV’s interest to convince us that sports are synonymous with life. If you miss a game, a quarter, or even one play, you could lose out witnessing history in the making (not to mention the best ad ever)! According to Fox, Super Bowl XLII was the logical outcome of man’s struggle for freedom from tyranny, the Patriots as direct descendants of Paul Revere’s Minutemen. The NFL is the USA. The USA is the NFL.
When the business of sport becomes anything more than idle water cooler chat or memorable moments kids try emulating on the field or the rink, when it is raised to the level of national identity or cultural significance, it’s time we all take a big step back. Look away from the flashing images on the TV and repeat after me: I am more than my favourite basketball team.. Watching baseball is a pleasant way to spend some time but it doesn’t bring deeper meaning to my life.. Even if God himself intercedes and reaches down to hand the Leafs the Stanley Cup this year, I’ll still be in debt and my teenage daughter will continue to think I’m stupid.. Super Bowl is just another Sunday except with much more beer and artery clogging snacks.
