Super Bowl Diary: Sunday Pregame

Patrick Donnelly, Staff Writer
Sunday, January 28, 2001, 5:15 p.m. EST

Raymond James Stadium
TAMPA, Fla.

Dear Diary,

In yet another "you-know-you're-at-the-Super-Bowl" moment, the young lady in the seat behind me here in Press Row just had the line of the day.

"Andy Rooney just yelled at me! I mean, it's not every day that you get yelled at by Andy Rooney!"

Only on Press Row at the Super Bowl will you hear something like that. Well, maybe backstage at "60 Minutes," but that's about it. I just hope she didn't make fun of his eyebrows, which appear ready to molt at any moment.

Reimer and I settled into our seats about a half-hour ago. We're in the "auxiliary press box," which means we're in a section of seats in front of the press box in the southwestern corner of the stadium. We're out here with the local TV and radio people -- the newspaper and network types are all inside the main press box, being fed grapes by a half-naked harem of starlets and stud-muffins, working on golden laptops with T1 Internet connections, and just generally living larger than the rest of us.

But that's OK -- they are missing out on the essence of the game. Out here, under the gauzy clouds and the fading daylight, with the smell of peanuts and beer in the air, we're getting the true Super Bowl experience.

The Super Bowl -- all about football, entertainment, and pedophilia.

Huh? Well, right now the field is covered with palm trees, a giant, phallic lighthouse and about 2,000 bikini-clad teenage girls. It's part of the pregame show that is purported to be celebrating Florida's standing as the ultimate Spring Break destination. It might as well have been doubling as a tribute to Tampa's standing as the Strip Bar Capital of the World.

In the strangest juxtaposition of the day, the horde of young hotties was followed onto the field by Styx. Evidently their tour of Ribfests and county fairs has brought them to the Southeast U.S. and the folks in the NFL wanted to welcome them aboard. Or maybe the band's booking agent has compromising photos of Commissioner Tagliabue with the Patriots team mascot. Either way, it's clear that Styx has no business being here.

My seatmate, a sharp-witted radio guy from South Carolina named "Big Mo" (see below) summarized their appearance thusly: "In the immortal words of Beavis and Butthead, 'I wish they'd play bands that don't suck.'" Big Mo is not a fan of modern music either. He keeps referring to the Backstreet Boys as the "Backyard Guys." I think we're going to have a fun game.

It's 15 minutes to kickoff and the field is on fire. Literally. It's too hard explain the physics of what I am witnessing, but suffice it to say, this part of the day is not about football.

The team intros are about to begin. This is a fine time to let you all know that the Giants fans here appear to have invested more of their disposable income in team jerseys, while the Ravens fans have invested much more in grain alcohol.

I've got no problem with that. At least they are wearing shirts. Pants too, for that matter.

One football observation -- Ray Lewis has been the central figure off the field this week, and today he appears to be the main man on the field in pregame. He led his team in a raucous huddle, screaming and throwing his helmet, before they started calisthenics. He was just the final player introduced for the Ravens -- a rarity for a linebacker -- and did a funky little jig that either means he is fired up for the game or he's auditioning for the U.S. men's 4x100 relay team.

The Giants are introducing their defense too. Fitting, I suppose, for a game that could resemble a hockey score by the end.

OK, we just did a little Desert Storm tribute. Ray Charles sang "America, the Beautiful" accompanied by an eerie stealth bomber flyover. The Backyard Kids . . . err, the Backstreet Boys sang the national anthem. And we had another flyover -- slightly delayed, but cool nonetheless -- by a squadron of F-16 Thunderbirds.

Once the smoke clears from the obligatory fireworks, it will be time for the coin flip, and time for me to get busy on a game story. Until later ...

Previous Diaries:
Saturday, January 27 -- Party Crashers
Friday, January 26 -- And On The Fifth Day?
Thursday, January 25 -- The Missing Egg
Wednesday, January 24 -- Midnite Vultures
Tuesday, January 23 -- Throng Of The South
Monday, January 22 -- And We're Off...