A point after
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by TJ Johnston I cursed myself because I couldn’t find the Boston-themed sports bar that was supposed to be on Polk Street. What better place to watch the 2002 Super Bowl (forgive me, but they should lose the Roman numerals) than amongst expatriate New Englanders such as myself? It was almost 1:00pm: kickoff was two and a half hours away, but I was missing out on most of the pre-game festivities. Normally, I would abstain from the bread and circuses this championship game provides. The last time I decidedly glued myself to the TV on Super Sunday was in 1991 (to refresh your memory, it was Buffalo vs. the New York Giants amidst a Gulf War backdrop). Like this year, I wasn’t focused on the game as much as the zeitgeist surrounding the event. It was also a worldwide pep rally for the US Military. My search for the Boston bar proved fruitless, so I had to take three buses back home. At my place, I tuned in to a musical number featuring Patti Labelle, Wynonna Judd, James Ingram and Barry Manilow surrounded by a chorus in tricolor spandex. I later learned that Manilow penned this ditty, "Let Freedom Ring." What happened to Up With People? Were they unavailable? Naturally, the salute to US Militarization did not end there. This year’s spectacle became the first sporting event ever to be designated a National Security Special Event. The US Secret Service coordinated with ten other law enforcement agencies to avert disaster (I wonder if anyone rented Black Sunday?). No automobile was allowed with a two-block vicinity of the Louisiana Superdome, not even limousines. Purportedly, everyone had to be searched, patted down and produce some ID (meaning Paul McCartney couldn’t skirt past security with the standard, "I’m with the band."). Less than sixty minutes before zero hour, actors potraying the Founding Fathers recreated the signing of the Declaration of Independence. For the performers, that must have been a step up from their usual hygiene film gigs. Milking the "Spirit of 1776" theme, Fox cut to a recitation of the Declaration of Independence by former NFL players. Telling off the King of England were Jim Brown, Navy veteran Roger Staubach, ex-Congressman and HUD Secretary Jack Kemp, and Minnesota Attorney General Jim Marshall. The Boston Pops Orchestra, who played Aaron Copland under the collective speech, accompanied them, as well as the living former presidents and Nancy Reagen. Any subtlety in that segment was lost when they incorporated footage of the collapsing World Trade Center. The Iwo Jima recreation also seemed a bit much. Especially egregious were the PSAs from the Drug Czar’s Office. In these spots, they equated recreational drug use with supporting terrorism. Makes you long for the "frying egg" ads, doesn’t it? When they weren’t cutting away to Kandahar, where troops were watching courtesy of the US Armed Services Network, the star-and-stripe-studded affair continued. Sir Paul is still alive and plugging a new album and tour. Mariah Carey even performed a relatively low-key rendition of the national anthem, saving the high note for "the land of the freeeeee" (the Xanax must be working). Stay tuned to see if airplay of her cover outdoes Whitney’s. Did I mention that men in uniform were featured at every available opportunity, including graphics of the player line-up? Comedian George Carlin long ago delineated the martial imagery of football. Including a team called the Patriots must have been gravy to jingoists, including John Ashcroft. I had mixed feelings about U2’s halftime show (brought to you by the NFL, E-Trade, and Clear Channel). During their set, the names of the September 11 casualties scrolled on a screen. They performed some good numbers ("Beautiful Day," "MLK," and "Where the Streets Have No Name," if you’re interested), but they could have turned up a notch if they included snippets of "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and "Bullet the Blue Sky." I knew that wouldn’t happen when Bono exposed the US flag sewn in the lining of his jacket. It would be so much easier to dismiss them if their last album sucked. After Adam Vinatieri’s game-winning field goal was greeted by a blizzard of red, white and blue confetti, the event’s nationalism persisted. "Spirituality and faith are the cornerstones of our democracy," sermonized Patriots’ owner Robert Kraft."Today, we are all Patriots." One of the players stretched things a bit: "We believed we would win and people died for their beliefs. Our belief came true." You’ve just won a football game. Why not just stick to the standard "I’m going to Disneyland?" My memories of the 1991 game resurfaced. Like this year’s championship, it was a match that went down to the wire. The military hoopla surrounding the New York-Buffalo contest was brazen in comparison (plus New Kids On The Block played halftime). I feel better that a Boston/NE team overcame a history of heartbreak, but that doesn’t mean I’ll buy Bush’s "hearts and minds" campaign. So, how about those Red Sox? |