Glamour and glitz won’t get top billing in Super Bowl XXXVIII,
guts and intensity will. And fans won’t be disappointed.
Sex appeal.
Every Super Bowl worth its Roman numerals must have it, or else.
Clearly that is the reason the National Football League and CBS conspired to give us Aerosmith as today’s pre-game entertainment.
Here would be a good place for hearty laughter, because that was a joke bigger than New England Patriots defensive tackle Ted Washington. Most men between ages 45 and 75 appear ridiculous on a rock ‘n’ roll stage, and just because “Sweet Emotion” and “Dream On” are timeless doesn’t make Steven Tyler and Joe Perry exempt.
What’s also being cast in other television, radio and newspaper circles as the antithesis of cool is the game itself.
People paid to know such things are comparing the thought of New England versus Carolina to a bizarre spectrum of sleep-inducing activities, ranging from the sight of chess master Garry Kasparov battling a super computer to a stalemate to reading the phone book to watching water freeze. Or perhaps seeing Tyler lip-synch any of his band’s movie-soundtrack sellout hits of the 1990s.
Networks worry about such things, of course, but not so much the network airing this year’s game as the ones waiting in the on-deck circle for 2005 and 2006. If today’s Super Bowl somehow hooks, say, one million fewer viewers than the last, in-game advertising might not command another rate hike beyond its current clip of more than $70,000 per second.
Perception being reality, the Patriots and Panthers have a perception problem that no wonder drug endorsed by Mike Ditka can cure.
Call us crazy partisans, but our beloved, blue-and-silver-clad franchise doesn’t captivate the rest of the nation in the same way it hypnotizes thousands from Presque Isle to Providence.
The conundrum is that the Patriots and head coach Bill Belichick, the one guy in the camp who merits the full faith and confidence of the pigskin populace, have evolved into winners while fielding a team virtually devoid of stars.
It’s an obvious advantage on the field. Belichick’s coaching style and team concept leave no room for the loose-lipped likes of Keyshawn Johnson, Warren Sapp, Jeremy Shockey or Terrell Owens. Small coincidence that any exposure those four men receive today will take place while wearing a suit and working as a studio analyst, because none of their teams even sniffed the playoffs this season, let alone the championship game.
New England players are boring. They don’t show up late for meetings or see flashing blue lights in the red-light district on the eve of important games. At press conferences, they piggyback compliments with cliches that are laughed off by gimme-something-good sportswriters who label them less than genuine.
D-e-e-fense driven
When the public doesn’t exalt the sound-bite machines on losing teams, it deifies quarterbacks who lead winning teams. Yet, while he’s won more consistently than any of his peers in his three seasons as starter, the Patriots’ Tom Brady somehow fails to max out the hype-o-meter. His raw numbers don’t satiate a statistically obsessed culture. Consequently, Brady probably still encounters resistance in squirming past security at some NFL stadiums.
Both Super Bowl finalists have prospered due in large part to stifling defense.
Yeah, you guessed it. That’s good for another summons from the excitement police.
Defense has been the predominant force behind winning football teams for twice as long as there have been all-sports, all-the-time networks designed to dissect every detail of it. That said, there remain fewer casual football fans who understand and appreciate textbook defense than there are ardent viewers of “World Series of Poker” marathons.
Give us points, the once-a-year crowd demands. Regale us with tales of the shotgun, flea-flicker, bomb, Hail Mary, run-and-shoot and hook-and-ladder.
If you’re seeking that sort of Super Bowl, better bring a good book to the party.
Carolina’s chief shortcoming is a lack of brand identification, even in its own market. In Greater Charlotte, the Panthers rank third, at best, behind college basketball and NASCAR.
The Panthers joined pro football in 1995. Today is their sixth playoff game. Ever. (Actual line heard at a recent NFC Championship viewing party: “I didn’t know Carolina had an NFL team until two weeks ago when they played Dallas.”)
Be gentle with that guy. At least he had the courage to admit it.
Exceeding expectations
There’s a nondescript quality to the Panthers that isn’t germane to most Super Bowl teams. The quarterback is a castoff from New Orleans who never wowed the coaches enough to win the starting job there, even though he was a local boy. The primary running back traded his playbook for a parachute in Washington in part because he fumbled too frequently. One of the starting receivers underwent anger management counseling after roughing up one of his teammates at a meeting last year.
Sound like Hollywood? There’s one compelling reason to watch.
And there are others.
Sure, some broadcasters clamored for an Indianapolis-Philadelphia finale, thinking out loud that a showdown between Peyton Manning and Donovan McNabb would be one for the ages. Problem is, the Patriots and Panthers, respectively, made those two fearless leaders look like high school freshmen.
While it might have been aesthetically pleasing to watch a game fueled by the St. Louis Rams’ explosiveness or the Dallas Cowboys’ popularity, the Panthers pushed both those teams away from the playoff table. It should be noted, also, that the Panthers-Rams classic ended with a touchdown pass on the first play of double-overtime.
Boring, huh?
All that New England and Carolina have done this season is chronically overachieve. Most of their wins came by a touchdown or less. The Panthers, in particular, made a habit of capturing victory in the final minute or on the last play.
Put ’em together and there’s no telling what will happen.
Might not be sexy, but you can bet it will be entertaining.
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