You think Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce will ruin the Super Bowl? Please. The NFL could use more Tay Tay.
Of all the things that are annoying about the average NFL telecast, the pop star and her Hall of Fame-bound boyfriend are way down on the list.
Like you — assuming you are a normal human being who lives an actual life and not someone who spends so much time online that you haven’t had natural light fall on your face since the summer of 2019 — I am puzzled by the Taylor Swift-Travis Kelce “controversy.”
If I have it right, here are the basic dynamics of this thing: The superstar tight end who looks like a well-groomed lumberjack and the superstar singer/songwriter — who, as superstar singer/songwriters go, seems pretty humble and self-effacing — have fallen in love. And since the NFL and its rights-holding networks view this rather intimate connection to the world’s biggest pop-culture figure as a chance to goose ratings and expand pro football’s fan base, those networks are training their cameras on Swift during games as she cheers on Kelce. And since Kelce and the Kansas City Chiefs will face the San Francisco 49ers next Sunday in the Super Bowl, Swift’s presence at Allegiant Stadium in Las Vegas — assuming she can make it in time for kickoff after a concert in Tokyo — will likely be mentioned a time or two. And since apparently no one in this country is capable anymore of just shrugging their shoulders and asking Why is this supposed to bother me?, people are bothered by Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce.
Mind you, people who like Taylor Swift and her music aren’t the ones bothered here. People who like football and only football and who fancy themselves as manly men who don’t want their football or their manliness tainted by even the slightest mention of a beautiful and talented and accomplished woman are, in general, the ones who are bothered here. Which is just nuts.
For one thing, when it comes to popularity and social relevance and power, the 6-foot-5, 250-pound, Hall of Fame-bound tight end is the beta in this relationship. Taylor Swift isn’t Travis Kelce’s girlfriend. Travis Kelce is Taylor Swift’s boyfriend. There’s a difference.
For another thing, the notion that the Super Bowl will be ruined because of an excessive emphasis on Swift is silly. The game has a ton going for it already. There’s the intriguing matchup between the defending champs (the Chiefs) and the best team in the NFC (the 49ers). There’s the even more intriguing contrast between the best quarterback in the league (Patrick Mahomes) and the best quarterback story in the league (Brock Purdy). There’s the whole experience of watching the Super Bowl: the entertainment value of the game, the entertainment value of the commercials, the social interaction with friends, your sister’s tremendous buffalo chicken dip. And as The New York Times already has noted, “the reality is Ms. Swift typically [is] onscreen for less than 25 seconds over the course of broadcasts that run longer than three hours.”
Twenty five seconds? That’s less time than it takes for her boyfriend’s brother to chug a six-pack. She won’t be on TV enough to ruin anything, unless you think any mention of her at all is grounds for outrage, in which case I’d suggest you seek out a decent psychotherapist.
In fact, I’d argue that any NFL game would be improved if the cameras spent more time on Swift and less on any number of people, topics, and features that are infinitely more annoying and less interesting. I would happily take more Tay Tay in exchange for cutting down or completely eliminating any of the following elements that are sure to be part of CBS’s coverage and telecast of Super Bowl LVIII:
Tony Romo.
Jim Nantz.
Jim Nantz and Tony Romo.
The entire cast of The NFL Today. The phony, forced laughter. The cliched, obvious commentary. Get rid of all of them. Just put on a college basketball game or two, then bring in James Brown 15 minutes before kickoff to set up the stakes, then go right to the game.
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The betting ads. Look, I get it. It’s a billion-dollar industry. It’s the primary way that millions of people consume sports nowadays. They don’t want human-interest stories. They don’t want to know anything personal about the players or the coaches or their families. They just want to know what the algorithmic odds are that Harrison Butker will make a 56-yard field goal inside a domed stadium located in the Pacific Time Zone when the facility’s geo-thermostat is set to 71.6 degrees Fahrenheit. And a lot of them end up becoming gambling addicts. Again, I get it. It’s the world now. I just think it’s … icky.
Any mention of “analytics” in a fourth-and-short situation. Stop being reductive. Stop dumbing everything down. You’re a professional broadcaster. You’re supposed to be an expert in football and communication. If you can’t explain to viewers, intelligently and in layman’s terms, why you think a team should or should not go for it on fourth down, find a new job.
Halftime interviews with head coaches. Sideline reporters are valuable. At their best, they provide real-time updates and information that are relevant to the game’s arc and outcome. Are teammates fighting among themselves? What’s the latest on the linebacker who limped off the field a few plays ago? Those aspects of the job matter. Eliciting one more We’ve got to stop the run in the second half doesn’t.
Anything related to State Farm Insurance.
Anything related to erectile dysfunction.
See? We just cleared enough time for at least five to 10 more minutes worth of Swiftie fixation. You don’t like it? You’re still bothered? Shake it off. There’s always another Super Bowl next year.