February 05, 2006

The Extra Large (XL) superbowl

I just finished watching the 40th Superbowl. Sadly the team I was rooting for, the Seattle Seahawks, lost 21-10 to the Steelers. Good match though.
I was introduced to American football (and the Superbowl) two years ago while on a project in Minneapolis. Being confined to my hotel room by -25 degrees Fahrenheit temperatures I couldn't avoid the event. Being an Indian I was initially repulsed by the seemingly mindless wrestling match the game seemed to be. The only redeeming part about the whole show, it appeared, was Janet Jackson's exhibition. Although I would have sincerely preferred Jennifer Lopez.
But over the last few months I have made some effort to understand the game and actually find it a bit interesting. I was struck by how much more of a marketing event the superbowl is, rather than a sporting event. There is a huge 3 hour pre-game TV orgy with every has-been, will-be, never-ever-will-be celebrity tries to get a looksee. Apparently 95 mn people tune in. There is also some kind of award to the best new TV advertisement aired during the spectacle.
The half-time show is another huge source of entertainment or so the NFL would have us believe. While this time the Rolling Stones did a creditable job (old rubber lips is apparently 62 yrs old!) it was definitely flat like most American beer.
An interesting effect I have seen is that many Indian males who have been in the US for some time, become ardent fans of the game. They mug up all the statistics and names of the players and teams and have positively vociferous opinions. Throw in a dash of beer/birra and the voluble desi takes over, embarrassing all and sundry. All good fun!
The cheerleaders were easy on the eye after watching 300 pound ugly males charging around in tighsuits. That's another area I am mystified about. Do these cheerleader girls get paid for prancing around in skimpy outfits. Isn't it, err.., slightly demeaning to be a cheerleader? Have feminists ever attacked this aspect of American Culture? Or am I tilting at imaginary windmills? Perhaps there is more than meets the eye.