Zwelling at Super Bowl: Stars and bars
Posted February 5, 2012 2:39 pm.
This article is more than 5 years old.
By Arden Zwelling, Sportsnet Magazine
INDIANAPOLIS — By now you’ve seen it all. This week somewhere around eleventy-gazillion hours of radio and television have been spent on this silly little football game they’re going to play on Sunday evening. You’ve endured a myriad of speculation regarding the collection of bone, ligament and flesh that hangs off a certain tight end’s left leg (I feel for the poor right ankle — no one cares about it). You’ve suffered through the endless debate over what a win on Sunday will do for this guy or that guy’s legacy (most commonly, the answer is nothing). You might have heard a thing or two about that Peyton Manning fellow as well (how inadequate do you think it feels to be Cooper Manning this weekend?).
But what you didn’t see, if you weren’t in unseasonably balmy Indianapolis this week, is the spectacle that surrounds and fuels all of this madness. The parties, the booze, the rich and famous people, the $80 valet fees. Here’s a quick recap of what’s happened.
The movie star
Adam Sandler really likes going to the Super Bowl for free. That’s why he releases a movie every year that requires him to do press in the first two weeks of February. And boy, when he does press, he really does press. Sandler was everywhere this week, promoting a movie that features Rex Ryan playing a Patriots fan and will almost certainly be as dreadful as every movie Sandler has produced since Happy Gilmore. But don’t lie, you’re probably going to see it anyway.
The media party
It’s tough, the media life. The players don’t particularly like you. The coaches especially don’t like you. Fans berate you on Twitter, wanting to know why you said their sucky team sucks. But every once and a while it all pays off. The media party was one of those times.
The Super Bowl welcoming committee or whatever the army of incredibly friendly people in yellow shirts were calling themselves, rented out the entire Indianapolis Motor Speedway for a party. Then they brought in an unbelievable amount of free booze, tall models dressed as Indiana monuments, pounds and pounds and pounds of red meat, Indy cars painted with NFL team logos and colour schemes and probably a whole lot of other stuff we didn’t even see. They even threw in a charter bus ride between the media hotel and the stadium. Some of us tried to calculate the price tag of the event while drinking a beer on the track at the freaking Brickyard, but once we got north of half a million we decided it was better not to think about it. What recession?
The Madonna
Thursday’s Madonna press conference wasn’t the finest moment for the assembled press corps here. “Reporters” from Extra and Access Hollywood fell over themselves to compliment the material girl and remind her of how incredible she is before lobbing a nice slow-pitch change-up over the plate for her to take a half-assed swing at. Does anyone really care whether Madonna would rather date Tom or Eli? For the record, she said Eli but she’s also old enough to be his mom — so gross.
Madonna herself, wearing a ridiculous all-black get-up that looked like some sort of disco assassin, was actually rather humble and seemed a little at odds with the absurdity of the questions being thrown her way. She seemed to feel especially bad for Tampa Bay Buccaneers defensive lineman Gerald McCoy who stumbled through a question that was so inane I can’t even remember what it was before asking her for a kiss. Again, gross.
And then she mentioned that Alex Rodriguez has a “very large” picture of her lying on a horse. So, there was that.
The Tebow
It’s tough to truly understand the whole Tebow thing when you’re in Canada on the outside looking in. But man, the vibe when he enters a room. Epic.
The Teebs – people are calling him that, right? – slowly lumbered onto Radio Row at the press centre earlier this week with a massive entourage in tow and suddenly everything stopped. Every head whipped in his direction. Radio interviews were cut off mid-sentence. All the clocks in the room stopped moving. The man has a tremendous impact on the people in these parts, one you can only really understand if you’re here. If this rapture thing ever happens, Tebow’s presence is going to be tough to top.
The Bud Light party
Entertainers Lil’ Jon, 50 Cent, Nelly and Pitbull were all there. That much was expected. Seeing former Ontario premier Mike Harris as we walked in was not. He was there early enough to see Lil’ Jon get paid a ridiculous amount of money to play other people’s music and yell profanities. Worth every penny.
It was Mr. Pitbull who had the night’s most engaging performance, taking a page from Madonna and wearing a tight all-black get-up that must have been so, so sweaty by the end of the night. He ran around the stage shouting barely comprehensible lyrics but the songs were familiar and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. I’m pretty sure he played a lot of songs that weren’t even his. He totally didn’t write The Wall, right?
By the time 50 Cent came on around 1ish in the morning, the crowd had thinned out some, no longer captivated by the free beer which is about what a Bud Light is worth anyway. Correct me if I’m wrong, but our friend Fiddy hasn’t had a hit in about five years, which in rapper time is basically eternity times two. The crowd reflected that, just standing around as he stammered through some new material before coming to life a bit when he arrived at the back catalogue.
At one point one of his entourage members started pulling stacks of money out of a glittery backpack and placing them strategically around the stage. In his heyday, Fiddy would’ve made it rain on the audience because he’s “stanky rich, I’ma die tyna spend this s—.” Now he simply has his friends place money around him before collecting it and moving on. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
