Saturday, January 24, 2015

SUPERBOWL XLIX or I'm Older than the SuperBowl; Hubby is Younger Than the SuperBowl

 Ever since Nixon's Resignation at the end of that fateful Summer in the mid-1970s, anything associated with dishonesty or discrepancy or 'cheating' ends with -GATE, from the infamous WaterGate Scandal. Our children continue to ask us, "What is WaterGate? What are ;they' talking about?" It's so much more, isn't it? It was certainly the end of my childhood innocence, that summer, in more ways than many. It continues to define not only my childhood, but I think to a great extend, the end of the United States of America's infancy, maybe even, it's own childhood, not as a country, but as the emergence of a Super Power at the close of WWII (does that also mean that just as I cross the line from middle age to the Great Second Act, that our country, America, enters her Second Act. Because Lady Liberty has certainly had some growing pains, even menopause, if you will. 

But, that's not all. With the emergence this week of "DeflatGate" and ten days 'till SuperBowl Touchdowns, I reflect on what American-style football used to be. And, those reflections can be summed up: It Ain't....

It's hard for me to believe that I'm OLDER than the SuperBowl, the NFL Phenomenon that has become an institutionalized machine. A monster that this year showed, it's out-of-control. I didn't want to watch it last year; I REFUSE to watch it, support it or condone it this year. It is quite possibly the worst day of my year, all things being equal. It represents everything that is wrong with our culture and yet, even those wonderful homo sapiens that have fond memories of what American-style football used to be, must be reeling after this weekend. It is not just it's own industry; it is it's own nightmare. And, shows no signs of stopping. 

I was looking at photographs, pics taken by former NFL photographers, the select few that have made it to each and every SuperBowl, (I think it's three old men. Of course, it would be men) affectionately termed, "Keepers of the Streak" I, myself, vaguely remember meeting Joe Namath in Miami (New York Jets) when our family was on the beach during one especially snowy (by European standards) winter break to Florida to visit the grandparents in West Palm Beach. It had to be late January and we were on the empty skyline of Miami Beach. There was very little urban sprawl, if any, back then and it seemed to me that all the hotels, were really, motels, concepts still leftover from the drive-in motel with a pool overlooking the Atlantic Beach. I remember this, because I could not understand in my youth, why all these women, even housewives, not just the Bunnies, but especially  THE MEN, could be so interested in such a HAIRY man in madras beach trunks (thank God, for me: I don't think Speedo togs for men had been invented...yet. At least, I hadn't seen them on the European beaches, France, Monte Carlo, St. Moritz or St. Tropez!). I couldn't fathom why anyone would be so interested in this dark, (did I mention, he was really...HAIRY!) man enough to ask for his autograph or photograph with him (this was before the Selfie...way before).

After that, I remember football. The innocence of the game. The salaries probably weren't...HUGE. The armour wasn''t Gladiator-like, quite. One could still identify their player without memorizing their Jersey number. Games were still in the daytime. That's a thing that I miss. It was truly....dare I say it....outdoors; if not in nature, then at least one could see the changing colors of the sky! It was still human, or elements of humanity. It was not in a SUPERDOME yet, under artifical light or artifical turf. Games had not moved to the evening. It wasn't the machine it has become. 

Another thing that I've noticed is that the Super Bowl almost builds a demarcation line between generations of homo sapiens: before the Super Bowl and after the Super Bowl. There is, to my unprofessional mind's eye, a clear line of ethics between those individual's born before the Super Bowl and those born after the Super Bowl started. My husband being one of the few exceptions and probably because as a military brat, and a naturalized American citizen, that has something to do with it. 

But, serio. It has become something altogether than what it used to be. And, those that have grownup on the Scrimmage Line know what I am talking about. The Good Old Days are Gone. For Good it would seem after this week. In recent years, since OJ captivated us in the 1990s at his Trial of the Century, the NFL has consistently gone South, Down Hill, and Down at the Heels from head injuries and traumas, to player retirements in poverty and even worse, player's bad behavior to esculating drug and alcohol abuse, domestic violence and child abuse. But, this past year, 2014, it pushed past the Line of Scrimmage and Off the Field, Off the Front Pages and onto elevator cameras, cell phones, computers and selfies. Everybody knows about NFL politics (or lack thereof) disclosures, coverups, discrepancies and player bad behaviors. It would seem they can't do anything right anymore. No wonder Tim Tebow has left the game for good. I'm sure he's thinking he Did The Right Thing, no matter what really happened. It doesn't even matter anymore if players are bullying players or the NFL and Football Teams accept and tolerate homosexual team mates. It can't get any lower or can it?

I just don't want to know. I'm done. Take the proverbial fork out. The NFL and the Super Bowl and the Whole Institution smacks of the heights of Materialism, Consumerism, the consumers are literally being Consumed. Trouble is, the Couch Potatoes are so obese with comforts they can't even roll away from their television sets, excuse HD screens. The monolith. The beast. The unwieldy institution that it is today. It was before OJ Simpson, or at least the only thing he was running away from was the parking lot to catch his plane, leaping through airline gates after he'd had his own OJ. Life and times were simpler then. People were honest. People were homo sapiens. People were still...people. Like I said, the only gate we talked about was, "Did you see the funny commercial with OJ trying to make his connection by jumping through the Gate". I don't know how the NFL and the Network Powers that Be will make a connection the First Sunday in February, but my goodness, I PRAY it will be back to the Human Connection. Beam me up, Scottie, there, truly seems to be no intelligent life here after all...

No comments:

Post a Comment