With any luck, the pomp will overshadow the fright and the world will see us Sunday as we always appear this time of year.
Loud, garish, brash, commercial.
You know, All-American.
In the past it was always a little more cheesy than special, this annual extravaganza we call Super Sunday.
Of course, in the past we weren’t talking about security checkpoints and anti-terrorism directives in the same breath as halftime entertainment and zone blitzes.
It will be harder to pull off this time around, but suddenly it’s so important that this be just as sentimental and patriotic and routine as every one of the other 35 Super Bowls.
If the NFL spectacle in all its overabundance couched as patriotism has somehow lacked sincerity in the past, Sunday should serve as some sense of comfort to those of us who still wonder if the bad guys haven’t already won.
You hear that more and more from people as you wait in security lines at airports these days, tolerant but slightly unnerved U.S. travelers removing their shoes and submitting to wands and trying to get used to the idea that we’re all suspicious characters now.
Of course, these are all minor inconveniences, and there are none among us who would trade with those whose lives were inexorably and tragically changed by the events of last September. Nor do we disagree with the need to ensure safety, as uncertain an exercise as that is.
But it’s different now. We know this to be true. How many of us are not still the least bit uneasy as we go about our daily routines? How many of us in New Orleans haven’t been a little nervous all week as security briefings were as well-attended as player interviews?
But if there’s a little sheepishness at still treating a football game, whatever the magnitude, in the same overblown way we always have on this particular Sunday, there shouldn’t be.
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Loud or not, garish or not, commercial or not, this is what we do. It will be toned down to much more tasteful proportions this year, most of the usual pregame banter directed toward a patriotic theme.
But if there is any question about the sincerity of the jingoism, remember that lost as it is sometimes in the midst of millionaire athletes and corporate sponsors, this game really is as much about American virtues as it is about football.
Every year there are stories about players like Marshall Faulk, who rose from a childhood in the projects of New Orleans, or Patriots receiver David Patten, who stuffed coffee-bean bags for a living five years ago, or Rams tackle Jeff Zgonina, who was cut four times in his nine NFL seasons and didn’t start his first game until 15 months ago.
Every year you hear players talk about living out their dreams, about how hard work or God or faith in something simply more powerful than themselves got them to this point.
This year, it seems, that talk has been met with much less cynicism, and this is a good thing, regardless of the reason.
This Super Bowl deserves all the pomp that can be pumped into it. And if our incessant flag-waving these last four months has infuriated those who seek to bring us down, one more giant spectacle may be just what is needed to further flex our muscles.
Somewhere Sunday, as the Secret Service does its job in securing one stadium in America, there will be someone somewhere wishing it wasn’t to be, wishing for another tragedy, maybe quelled in his own attempts to bring it down.
Let’s hope Super Sunday will really tick them off.