This Sunday was Super Bowl LVIII—one of the last remaining events where we all universally come together to participate in one singular moment in a world where everything is siloed off and individualized.
The Kansas City Chiefs vs. The San Francisco 49ers. The greatest quarterback of all time, Patrick Mahomes, vs. the best all-around team in the NFL. David vs. Goliath, ya know, if David was coached by an offensive genius and instead of being armed with a slingshot, his arm was a literal cannon that could shoot a hole through Goliath’s chest.
When I wore a younger man’s clothes, Super Bowl Sunday was an excuse to drink. For many, it still is. These days, it’s an opportunity for me to swallow foods I absolutely should not be putting inside of my body. There’s a reason people don’t eat buffalo chicken dip regularly. As I write this, my stomach is vibrating like Joe Biden hyping himself up to get out of bed in the morning at 1pm.
The Grammys were last week. I know for a fact there’s at least one person reading this who had no idea it even happened. There was a point in time when me and my buddy would get excited about award season, texting through the whole show and now, these events hold no real cultural weight anymore.
But this Sunday’s Super Bowl set a new record with over 123 million people tuning in to see Usher restoring the 2004 feeling back with Jermaine Dupri in the background looking like moments before he went on his stage, his father turned to his mother and reluctantly said: “Honey, I shrunk the kids”.
The biggest storyline going into the game was the relationship between Chiefs star tight end, Travis Kelce, and Taylor Swift—who is in the midst of a once-in-a-generation run of uninterrupted success. From a number 1 album to the biggest tour in the world turned into one of the highest-grossing movies of the year. The entire Grammy night was about her, even going as far as her announcing her new album on stage smiling ear to ear in a room full of her peers she just casually treated like fans.
Oh, and then SHE WON THE SUPER BOWL.
I don’t think you understand how insane it is that Taylor Swift’s team won the game. But of course she did. She’s only winning. It’s a shame we’re like, a month away from her saying (or not saying enough) about Israel and people dogpiling on her because she’s been overexposed and folks are eventually going to find reasons to exile her back to the outlet mall she spawned from.
But this is Let’s Get This Dread so you know I had to overthink the Super Bowl and turn the day into a nightmare.
The Super Bowl commercials used to be must-see TV. You were a weirdo if you didn’t go to school on Monday obnoxiously yelling ‘wazzzuuuuuuuppppp’ over and over again.
And in 2024, every commercial is stuffed with various degrees of celebrities attempting to sell you things you already own or absolutely do not need. Only for the broadcast to then cut to million-dollar box seats stuffed with even more celebrities watching down upon us less-thans like some sort of post-apocalyptic Hunger Games where the young men on the field lower their life expectancies slamming their heads together over and over while we all happily devour our bread and circuses.
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