Super Bowl

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This was not just a regular game. This game was so important that it had its own media week. Sportswriters, cameramen, and our nation’s spotlights all converged in Louisiana for the forty-seventh  Super Bowl this past Sunday. In response, America made sure that no stone was left unturned for this magnificent occasion.

The Super Bowl stands as a symbol of America on steroids. In fact, the America that I love is the one that is on steroids. That’s why I love the Super Bowl.

This year’s Super Bowl was the biggest one to date. It included top artists like JenniferHudson, Alicia Keys, and Beyoncé as well as a moving performance from the Sandy Hook Elementary School choir. Let’s have the Hall of Fame inductees ceremoniously perform the coin toss—all seven of them. Did I mention Beyoncé? This was not a regular game. There were intermittent top-40 concert performances in the pre-game show. This was a spectacle to unite America. I was one with my country.

The saturation of the Super Bowl began weeks before the first whistle blew. Cue the human interest stories—there is a new playground here, a visit to a sick patient there. The league handed out an award to the league’s man of the year. The unity of community service, sports, and spectacle demonstrates strong American values. Cue the nationalism.

Highlights of the season were shown. The touchdowns and crazy collisions were collaged into these epic videos in which the accelerating cuts between clips accompanied by the music of beating drums excited even the most lifeless of audiences. Interviews with players, coaches, and family members described every possible angle of the game. Bill Cowher, in a conversation with 49er Vernon Davis, held an iPad showing a video of Davis being publicly embarrassed by his former coach, bringing the player to tears. The heart of the Ravens, Ray Lewis, joyously bawled at numerous press conferences, knowing he could (and did) finish his career with a Lombardi Trophy. The head coaches of the contending teams are brothers, who have been competing since infancy.

“What will you have to do to win?” This was the essential question. Every true American should have an answer, and all of the controversy surrounding this topic riled up my love for this country and this sport.

“This is not a regular game. This is what you dream of as a player.” Thank you, Boomer Esiason. Some might call it the American dream of every boy. This was certainly true for me.

Despite the nauseating joke that a Harbaugh is going to take the trophy either way, the all-day coverage raised some perplexing questions. I still grapple with whether emotion can beat talent or if experience is better than youth in such a big game. Cue my sarcasm. It is a shame that the commentators offer no help in answering these inquiries.

Following the first couple of plays were the much anticipated commercials. We must not neglect to mention the United States military ads inundate not only the Super Bowl but the NFL in general. No group, not even the Republican Party, is more supportive of our troops than the NFL. Other commercials showcased cars, pizza, and beer, all of which are as manly as they are American. Cue the color guard, the jet flyover, and patriotism.

I watched the Super Bowl because I love America on steroids. I cannot wait to see what next year’s game in New York City, our country’s largest and most alluring city, will be like. What’s more American than that? Cue the anticipation.

Brady is a member of the class of 2015.

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