The ad where the horses saved the puppy from the wolves was terrific, as was the one in which the weight loss program offered to save us all from ourselves and the consuming we’re constantly exhorted to do.
The end of the game was spectacularly unlikely, of course. In a league that promotes its product as organized, intelligent, and disciplined, a receiver caught what should have been a game-determining pass under splendidly fluky circumstances, and a coach Robert Kraft had described as “not like other NFL head coaches” made certain that it wouldn’t be a game-determining pass after all by picking the least intelligent option open to him when he called a pass play at the goal line. Actually, maybe that’s not true. Pete Carroll could have called for a fumble.
And discipline? With seconds left to play, players from both teams began slugging each other. Some of them pounded away at the heads of their opponents. Those opponents were wearing helmets. Even in the heat of the moment, that had to strike some viewers as exceptionally stupid.
No matter which team you were supporting, no matter your politics, this was an entertainment bonanza… a gloriously overwrought, surprise-riddled spectacle suited to the schizophrenic mix of popularity and infamy to which pro football in general and the Super Bowl in particular have ascended… or descended.