In any case, I was left with a seriously broken heart. But it wasn’t my heart—it was a virus—that caused me to miss the lessons on Roman numerals. I’ve done my makeup work since then, but I’m still a bit weak on the subject, which means that I am sometimes a bit slow in finding the right chapter in excellent old Bible commentaries and in Super Bowls. As I write, Super Bowl LVII (that would be 57) was played yesterday, but I mistakenly called it Super Bowl 52 (that would be LII) a couple of times before the game started.
By the way, do you remember who won Super Bowl LII or even who the teams were? I’m sure some of you do, but I don’t have a clue. Who was the famous football player who was asked by a sports announcer if he thought that year’s Super Bowl was the “ultimate game ever”? Well, he was very pleased to be there, but the player simply replied, “Did they play the game last year? Will they play the game next year? [Pause.] Well.” Perspective is good.
That said, I thought yesterday’s Super Bowl Fifty-Something (make that LVII) was an incredibly good—yea, verily, even great—game. Granted, my opinion here is worth incredibly little. I’d rather watch an old John Wayne movie than most sporting events of any sort (unless I’ve got kids or grandkids playing), and I think anyone who pays the price charged for Super Bowl game tickets is certifiably insane. I’d pay not to go and to be able, instead, to watch the game at home on a good TV with good friends, good food, and a pillow thirty paces away and ready for use when it’s over. And that’s what I did.
But, as worthless as my opinions here really are, here are a few observations.
I enjoyed watching a game where the opposing quarterbacks were both exceptionally classy guys with deep respect for each other. Patrick Mahomes (Chiefs) and Jalen Hurts (Eagles) are both winners.
Folks always like to fuss about officiating, but, at this level, I think the officials are almost always incredibly professional. And one of the classiest things I heard after the game came from Eagles cornerback James Bradberry who drew a game-altering holding penalty very late in the game. When asked about it after the game, Bradberry just said, “It was a holding. I tugged his jersey. I was hoping they would let it slide.” Ya gotta appreciate a guy who just tells the truth and won’t whine.
Of course, there’s more to a Super Bowl game than the game. A few of the commercials were funny. Automakers hawking electric cars are still full of prunes, in my opinion. And I’m inclined to think that the “He Gets Us” Jesus commercials are really quite (surprisingly) good and more than defensible.
Ah, and don’t forget the Halftime Show. I’d really rather forget most of them. They make me cringe, and I very much doubt they’ll ever feature any “star” whose music I enjoy.
By the way, I very much enjoyed hearing Chris Stapleton sing the national anthem. I wish he’d sung the halftime show. But I guess he’d have looked silly in a red costume like Rihanna’s. It would be a bust indeed if he sang in a red plastic bra, though some such is probably on the way for a year or two from now.
The announcers said that Rihanna’s show was loved by jillions of folks tweeting cheers. The folks at my house just endured one more such show knowing we’d eventually get through the 29 minutes. I’ll admit that flying the singers and gyraters around was impressive. I still haven’t figured out the white, baggy ski-suit folks. I’ve heard people say they were sort of video game characters and that was the vibe being attempted. They reminded me of bleached Star Wars Jawas (Google it). Anyway, if the choice was to watch a 2024 Presidential Debate featuring a rematch between (please, no!) Elmer Fudd and Jabba the Hutt (Google them and then tell me the characters and politicians don’t fit), I might rather endure a Super Bowl halftime show. For me, “endure” is almost always the right word.
Anyway, Super Bowl LVII, 57, Fifty-seven, is now history. Ya never know exactly what to expect when these roll around. Kind of like life, I guess. Big wins, big losses. Tears of joy, tears of sorrow.
I wish both quarterbacks could have won. The Kelce boys, one on each team, had parents who were proud of them. Mom cheered from a luxury box; Dad, from the stands.
I hope you know that you’ve got a Father who’s incredibly fond of you and cheering you on in a far more important game.
You’re invited to visit my website, and I hope you’ll take a look there at my new “Focus on Faith” Podcast. At the website, just click on “Podcast.” Blessings!
Copyright 2022 by Curtis K. Shelburne. Permission to copy without altering text or for monetary gain is hereby granted subject to inclusion of this copyright notice.