Guest blogger: ANDY BERLIN
 • Andy Berlin is CEO of Voluntary United Group of Creative Agencies.
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Sunday, Feb. 4, 2007 — 10:43 a.m.
Well, here it is, 10:43 a.m. EST on Super Bowl Sunday. Kind of raining here in South Florida after a big front crept down from Canada and spun a bunch of tornadoes through the middle of the state earlier this week; now it presses down on us from above like an overweight TV wrestler in grey Speedos (registered trademark used without permission).
There will have been rain contingency plans laid for the pre-game, halftime and post-game “shows,” one can suppose, perhaps clever and interesting ones, but maybe as lightly considered as the fully open venue of Joe Robbe Stadium in February when cold fronts are still wont to creep down.
Elizabeth the Queen is playing on the TV, the Elizabeth vs. Mary Bowl, with a powerful back story of Protestants vs. Catholics, but alas, no commercials. Lord Burley, head of her Privy Council, is played by the same actor who was Senator Palpatine /The Emperor in Lucas’ Star Wars opus (references used without permission). To the extent that the physiognomy of his voice is unmistakable, he cannot be sympathetic. Compare and contrast to the Super Bowl? It could be funny. But not that funny. Whoa, there you go, off comes Mary’s double-wide head (with the sound of a coconut wrapped in a wet towel). That’s one for the highlight reel.
Okay then. No commercials yet other than the usual undifferentiated mass that makes up the background music of day-to-day reality—as yet no glorious contests of American Corporate humour aimed at their supplicant designees: us.
Till then …
4:24 p.m.
More light rain in Miami. Streets dark and slick. Ominous quiet.
This could be a time for lists!
Why the Super Bowl is good:
1) Because the commercials are usually better than the game. (This may smell like trite conventional wisdom, but if you get to watch a Super Bowl without commercials, as I had the honor to do last year in a London hotel, it’s pretty dang boring, and last year was a reasonably good game. Why don’t “they” export the commercials along with the game? I’m sure there’s a reason that can be defended intelligently, like a haircut code or helmet law, but the experience of watching the game without the commercials—in their stead a couple of droning in-country so-called expert commentators—truly sucks.)
2) It’s our popular culture’s chance to show off to itself. This appears to be necessary for some complex reason, even if it turns half the world against us.
3) There’s always a chance the game will be good.
4) Though rarely a stage for genuinely original expression, damn near everybody is watching and the commercials are often funny and entertaining. What’s not to like about that?
5) Lord be praised, it is one of the few places and times on earth when some of our biggest companies are willing to poke fun at themselves (or at least let their agencies perform this critical service). This is remarkable and itself worth the price of admission (which is “free”, i.e., paid for, like the athletes, ultimately by the same sponsors whose Mardi Gras-like largesse still doesn’t get their commercials exported as far as London.)
6) Super Bowl parties at friends houses.
What’s bad about the Super Bowl:
1) The halftime show. Gaaaaaaagh. Mel Brooks should do a play about Your browser may not support display of this image.this. I don’t want to see, consider or even think about it. There has never been a good one. There has never not been a horrific one, regardless of the “talent” involved.
2) Actually going to the game. Much like the London experience without commentators. It’s onerous in the extreme just to get to a bathroom and have a pee, and you’re more or less forced to watch the halftime show. The parking lot outside the stadium is a breeding ground for busses and a vast factory for atmospheric carbonization. Then you have to get home.
3) The television build-up. Everyone knows it’s a gigantic cut-and-paste cliché and yet has to go through the motions anyway.
In sum, the good outweighs the bad mostly on account of the commercials.
4:37 p.m.
The Pre-Game Show. The commercials begin. Prince’s weird monad and uh, bright gitars [sic]. A State Farm Commercial—with real people speaking real words of their own. Love grows, celebrating love’s journey. Dang. Every kiss begins with K. Okay, I’ll think on that like Blake’s grain of sand. Actually … A Norelco commercial so fast it red-shifted. Visa. Hand-breaded jumbo etc from Red Lobster. GMC’s are like watches, I guess. Cut to Eye Rock in one of Saddam’s old palaces. Very Unique, says Randy Cross. Baghdad Bowl, says the super. Bradley Fighting Vehicles as grandstands. Huh? I guess I’m “down with that.” This game was never about who’s gonna win or lose. Hi mom. Nice hat.
5:36 p.m.
What’s with Katie Couric’s hair?
5:37 p.m.
The Heinz Ward segment was terrific.
5:38 p.m.
Taco Bell Lions … Was that Ricardo Montalban’s VO? The return of Kahn? Nice idea …
5:47 p.m.
Cirque du Soleil.
6:33 p.m.
Good time for a Super Bowl recipe:
Super Bowl Chicken Souse Fajitas
Slice up a half dozen skinless chicken thighs.
Marinate in Lea & Perrins, juice of a lime.
Drain and cook in a big black cast iron frying pan or a wok.
Add sliced onion.
A bag of Birdseye frozen pepper strips.
One sliced fresh Jalapeño.
Couple of big chopped garlic cloves.
Handful of crushed roasted pumpkin seeds.
Throw the rest of the ingredients into the pan/wok once the chicken cooks a bit.
Add ground cumin, salt and pepper, a little oregano.
Cook it up and serve with canned black beans on a steamed (or microwaved)
corn tortilla.
This all takes about 5 minutes.
Pretty damn good stuff with a cold Heineken …
7:22 p.m.
The Built Ford Tough Kickoff Show ... funny chips ad ’bout “the chips your mom would give you if your mom was a man … rain shining on the helmets of the players ... ‘bout time to get this show on the road, eh?
Was that Paul Newman for Ronald McDonald House? Huh!? Good get. Paul sounds a lot like Tom Skerritt …
A moment of silence for the aforementioned tornadoes and folks who got hit, then Billy Joel’s rendition of the national anthem, rain glistening on the piano keys—no Milli Vanilli, Billy does it live, bless his soul.
CBS is sure doing a lot of tune in cross-promoting. Pizza Hut Cheezy Bites, flat as the pie in the food shot. Blockbuster gives us an equally uninspired differentiating claim—sounds like Alec Baldwin on the VO. If so, a bit of a waste of top talent.
The coin toss. Mrs. Hunt is YOUNG. Lamar, you dawg. Chicago wins the toss. Scores on the kickoff. Dang!
First in-game commercial break, Bud Light. A man throws a rock and hits another man in the head. OK, I guess. Doritos features a car crash and Blockbuster the maltreatment of a mouse by a rabbit and a guinea pig. Huh!? Mayhem to sell. Why am I no longer hungry?
Pepsi—More happy? You happy? Me not happy. Fed Ex on moon make you happy? Me not happy.
8:17 p.m.
Snickers’ Brokeback candy bar with a touch of chest hair mayhem, kind of funny—but is there a pain theme developing here?
Chevy songs, yeah, that’s true. Good game so far.
GoDaddy. “GO AWAY please” dot com.
Coke “Side of Life”/Grand Theft Auto, nice, optimistic commercial, anti-mayhem, I reckon. Wieden + Kennedy delivers the elixir of optimism ‘bout as well as it could be done .. what the world needs now, etc.
Budweiser puppy spot(s). People will like that one, I suppose. Garmin monster maps, well …
CBS needs windshield wipers for their cameras. Invention opportunity. I’m worried for the artist once again known as Prince, he could get electrocuted in this deluge.
More mayhem for Bud Lite. And heart disease.
GM Laid Off Robot. Cute.
Coke Black History week … politicaly smart, beyond criticism and very cost effective (who was that director?).
8:36 p.m.
Sprint: Connectile dysfunction, a little bit funny. Easy to imagine how much funnier it would have been in presentation to the client.
Motorola: Goes for dead straight small screen demo, but they’re from Chicago, you know, and it couldn’t be helped. Still a tight game. Fumbalaya. Fumbalewsky.
Tostitos: Takes the same high road as Coke, doing it a little better, I think, focusing more topically (and appropriately) on the accomplishments of the coaches.
Wait a minute. It stopped pouring. Guys are swimming. Guys are snoring … will someone please tell David Spade not to dance with himself on his promos? It’s not his thing. Thank you.
9:58 p.m.
Second half … Taco Bell lions with Ricardo .. very funny. Favorite thus far. Whoops, Emerald Nuts with Robert Goulet might be even better maybe—weird & funny. FedEx Ground “Turkey Neck,”—great! Bud Light “Ax”—also great! (What’s with all these good spots getting buried in the back half?)
10:24 p.m.
Well, I’m sort of tapering off here, like a snake, the ’Bowl its own self. Game stayed interesting ‘til midway through the fourth quarter. I suppose my favorite commercial was somewhere among these three: the Goulet spot for somebody’s nuts, the man as Mom for somebody other than Frito-Lay’s chips and the Taco Bell spot where the two lions try and say Carne Asada rolling the R like Ricardo Montalban.
We’ll find out what the cellular text-proficient folks liked best soon enough—maybe the Bud spotted dog commercial, which had every popular formulae except cleavage. Overall, an okay year, not nearly as good as the best, not so bad as many.
Thanks to Cathy and Alison and to anyone who’s read this far.
Bless you all and to all a good night.
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