All in all I thought it was a terrific Super Bowl, except when the Toyota Corolla with the stuck throttle crashed through the west grandstands and took out the entire CBS sideline reporting staff.
I'm kidding, of course. It was a Camry. But other than that, it was a fantastic day at Sun Life Stadium, which at halftime officially changed its name to ``ShamWow Stadium'' and by the end of the game was going by ``Fred.''
The pregame scene outside the stadium was very festive; the sun was shining and the fans were happy (I am using ``happy'' in the sense of ``fairly hammered already''). You could tell the Saints fans because every few feet they would shout ``Who dat.'' This is a system -- similar to the sonar system used by bats -- that enables Saints fans to identify each other by sound when they are too happy to see.
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You could tell the Colts fans because a lot of them had their faces painted blue, so they looked like characters from the movie Avatar who had been transported from the planet Pandora to the Midwest and developed a Krispy Kreme habit.
The Colts fans don't say ``Who dat,'' but they do call themselves ``Hoosiers.'' There's a fascinating story behind this name, which is: Nobody knows. At least none of the Colts fans I surveyed did, although they hazarded various guesses, the most interesting of which was that a Hoosier is ``a kind of bear that eats curry.'' This guess was hazarded by a man named Ajit Gill, who is the father of a Colts player, defensive tackle John Gill. Ajit Gill is Indian; I asked him if ``Gill'' was a common name in India, and he said (I swear he said this): ``Yes! There are many Gills in India. The gestation period of a Gill is only seven and a half months.'' Ajit seemed like a happy man, if you get my drift.
There reportedly were many famous celebrities at the game, but the only one I encountered personally was the Rev. Jesse Jackson, with whom I conducted an exclusive 11-second interview. He told me, exclusively, that he has, quote, ``no idea'' what Hoosier means.
The halftime show was spectacular. They wheeled out a really elaborate portable stage, then they turned out the lights, so the stadium went dark. And then, in one of the evening's most dramatic moments, the spotlights came on to reveal, in the middle of a swirling cloud of smoke . . .
Janet Jackson's right nipple.
No, sorry, that was Pete Townshend; from a distance, he bears a certain resemblance. Townshend is of course the guitarist for the legendary rock band The Who, which performed a medley of its greatest hits, which have been electrifying the world since they first came out during the Spanish-American War. The crowd went crazy, especially when Roger Daltrey, in the climactic finale of Won't Get Fooled Again, ejected his dentures all the way into the upper deck.
Also there was a football game, which I thought was a clever, innovative and -- to be honest -- totally unexpected way to cap off Super Bowl week. So in conclusion, I think this was the best Super Bowl ever, and I hope the NFL agrees with me that it should definitely return to South Florida.
Speaking of returning: If you were at the game and seated in Section 443, be advised that Roger would like his dentures back.