“I just love Super Bowl Sunday, don’t you, Dan? A magical afternoon where dreams are made … or crushed!”
Well, Lt. Einhorn — of “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective” fame — I too love the Super Bowl. All eyes are on Houston this weekend for the big game, one of the most alliterative in history, that pits the Patriots against the Panthers.
But the Super Bowl is more than just the pinnacle of athletic events — it’s a veritable circus of American culture. Some of us will be breaking down the game from our couches, some will be staring at “all those mans in they tight pants,” some will ignore the game in favor of the commercial breaks (I’m praying that Britney Spears makes an advertising comeback), some will just turn on E! and catch the latest Super Bowl Party celebrity gossip.
Head-to-head competition is the rule of the day. Franchises will not only duke it out between the hashes, but corporate America will do so as well during the commercial breaks. Can the Britney Spears-Aerosmith Super Bowl Halftime Show be beaten by this year’s Janet Jackson offering? The Miller catfight girls vs. Budweiser’s Cedric the Entertainer dance moves? Who will throw the better party — Maxim or Playboy? Will Backstreet Boy Nick Carter maintain his hold on the hand of Paris Hilton, or will some beefy lineman take his place? And perhaps most importantly, who will win the all-important Lingerie Bowl?
Did you know that there actually is a Lingerie Bowl? This is probably the greatest addition to the Super Bowl circus in history. This isn’t just like Bud Bowl, with cartoon beer bottles wrecking one another. This is the real deal. For a scant pay-per-view fee, tasteless males like me can enjoy a seven-on-seven battle between two teams of scantily clad lingerie models during halftime of the big game. It’s full contact. And tackle.
So many benefits. No Janet Jackson mass-produced pop music at halftime. No pointless analysis of the first half from the talking heads in the studio. No delay in the gridiron action. And most importantly, 14 gorgeous women prancing about in their skivvies and beating the living crap out of one another.
The ingenious promoters even went the extra mile with the periphery of the game. Roving the sidelines will be B-list celebrity reporters Traci Bingham and Amy Weber, who have appeared in such masterpieces as “Baywatch,” “Son of the Beach,” and “Port Charles.” Michael Buffer will collect his million-dollar paycheck as soon as he utters “Let’s get ready to rumble.” What a racket. I need a catch phrase like that. And in a continuing effort to pass this off as a legitimate sporting event, the promoters enlisted the aid of two former all-pros to coach the high-maintenance models: Eric Dickerson and Lawrence Taylor.
Dickerson and Taylor? Wise choices, indeed. Dickerson took the classy road from NFL all-time single-season rushing leader to Hall of Famer to sideline reporter for Monday Night Football to … women’s football coach? Given these circumstances and the favorable working conditions, however, I can’t say I blame him.
LT is the more interesting case. One of the most intense and fearsome linebackers of all time, he just so happened to have a weakness for crack. But you have to admire him for being a survivor, as he has ventured into the most emotive of feature film roles. His lecture on the dangers of crack to nine-year-olds in “The Waterboy” was a stirring performance. And that “60 Minutes” interview earlier in the year when he revealed that he used to weaken his opponents before games by sending prostitutes to their rooms the night before? This is a man who knew how to win at all costs. Will he employ the same strategy for this game by sending gigolos to his opponents’ hotel the night before? Or maybe with faux contracts? Is his coaching rival Dickerson in fact looking forward to the “gift” he is awaiting from Mr. Taylor? All I know is that my money is on LT to pull out all the stops for a victory. And I may just send him a note expressing my willingness to be one of said gigolos.
I cannot wait to have my own stupidity capitalized upon as I pay the outrageous pay-per-view charge for this gridiron battle. And I may just have to go out and purchase a TiVo before the game so that I can break down each of the critical plays in slow motion. The Lingerie Bowl will ascend into the Pantheon of hallowed television shows that remain on one’s TiVo for years after the original air date, joining such legends as “The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show” and “The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show II.”
And so, Lt. Einhorn, here’s to hoping that Super Bowl Sunday makes my dreams come true … or at least is ridiculous enough to justify the $39.95 I plunk down for the halftime show.
Robert Schrum does not treat objects like women.