American Grandstand

When I was growing up, American Bandstand was a constant in my house. I don’t really remember the songs or the performances. I don’t really remember much of anything except this one line:

It’s got a good beat, and you can dance to it.

Basically, the 70’s version of “this song slaps”.

I love music, doesn’t matter what kind it is, either. I love that moment when you get to the chorus and your brain goes It’s showtime. I love it when the hairs on your arm stand up because something hits you just right.

That’s the good stuff.

Not every song even has to be profound; sometimes it just makes you feel like a slightly cooler version of yourself when you’re driving home from Costco.

I try to remind the fam that I used to be cool by pulling up in the garage with the bass bumping like I’m at Coachella instead of unloading groceries.

Might be Måneskin. Might be Eminem. Maybe Black Sabbath, or Marvin Gaye. It might be Weird Al.

Spotify has yet to get a good read on me.

Music is one of the oldest human connectors we have. Did you know that singing, dancing, and even drumming together release endorphins and oxytocin? It bonds strangers and creates shared memories.

And what better example of this than concerts and sporting events?

Back in the early days, the Super Bowl halftime show was marching bands and drill teams. Sometimes it was patriotic and wholesome, and sometimes it was absolute ass -  like that weird kaleidoscope fever dream of 1983 or the ice skating production of 1992, for example.

Halftime used to be ‘bathroom and another beer” time.

Then, in 1993, Michael Jackson took the stage, standing still and silent for two minutes and getting a stranglehold on all of us watching. He didn’t let go until he closed with Heal the World, getting the entire stadium involved in the performance.

(Google it. Chills.)

It was the first time ever that the ratings went up at halftime, and that’s when the NFL figured out the winning formula.

Of course, since then, halftime has rarely been “just music”.  There are still sponsors to pay, so it’s always had a little “we’d like to thank Pepsi, Anheuser-Busch, and this year’s concept of unity,” vibe.

But the best halftime shows still make you feel like you’re at least part of it.  There’s a big difference between “share this moment with me” and “guess I’ll just stand here and watch you have fun”.

Both halftime events this year felt like the latter.

Then came all the grandstanding, with everyone on a side convinced THEY had won the night and THEIR side was the righteous one.

Sigh…it’s not really supposed to be this deep, is it?

Like a lot of families, we treat the Super Bowl as an event. We plan our menu a week out just to make it like a party, the absolute ragers that we are.

The Balkan Storm made his legendary barbecue ribs. I made my cheeseburger sliders (on King’s Hawaiian rolls, so you know it’s fancy times).

Four of us in the living room, tearing into ribs like Vikings, and within minutes, my daughter and I are in a heated argument about whether the Patriots suck.

For the record, neither of us watches professional football.

The most I watch is my teen’s high school games, while my incredibly patient husband reexplains the rules and other parents try to outshout the actual coach.

She and I, like many viewers, am strictly watching for the commercials and the halftime show. We don't know football, but we love a good performance, even if it's only thirty seconds.

But there we were arguing like Collinsworth and Tirico, even though neither of us could name three players from either team. (I mean, I know Stefon Diggs, but that’s only because I listen to Cardi B.)

Eventually, the halftime show came up.

I ended up watching both halftime shows. I am committed to proper due diligence before I write about something, after all.

After approaching both with an open mind, I found them both underwhelming – and for the exact same reason.

 Now, of course, I know Bad Bunny. I have some of his stuff on my workout playlist. Zero idea what he’s saying. Don’t really care.

It’s got a good beat, and you can dance to it.

Bad Bunny’s show clearly wanted to be big and culturally significant. A celebration of Puerto Rican identity while redefining “American” identity.

And that’s great. If you already love him, speak the language, and enjoy that vibe, then you were probably having the best time.

If you didn’t, you were too busy trying to figure out what you'd missed.

Some of the symbolism only made sense if you already knew the context. In many crowd shots, people looked more than a little confused.

And a halftime show done almost entirely in Spanish during THE biggest broadcast in the country is a strange choice, not because Spanish doesn’t belong, but because the Super Bowl show is about getting everyone on their feet and into the performance.

You sing along and relish the moment. Most of us couldn’t do that, so naturally, that’s gonna create a perception of exclusion.

What was supposed to feel like a party felt like a mini-civics lesson and a counterculture statement, and those things naturally divide a crowd rather than unite it as intended.

Fans called it a performance of pride, love, and unity. And maybe that was the intention, but intention and execution aren’t always the same thing.

I felt the attempt, but still felt more like someone watching from outside the club.

Because even though The Balkan Storm speaks far better Spanish than I do, “Estoy aprendiendo” is my conversational disclaimer anytime we’re on vacation together.

Within two minutes, he and a local are rapid-fire riffing like long-lost brothers, and I’m smiling politely while sidling towards the nearest paletas stand.

There was no way was keeping up with Bad Bunny.

There was a lot of grinding. Like, a lot.
Bad Bunny’s show was provocative, full stop.

Now, I am not some pearl-clutcher.  I was a tween during the Dirty Dancing years and came of age in the Madonna/2 Live Crew/PMRC era. I'm sure the kids have seen worse online.

But this is the Super Bowl. It’s one of the few shows where grandparents, parents, and kids are likely to be watching together in the same room.

And still the people in charge said yep, totally fine for Sunday night family viewing.

From TikTok to the White House, everyone is arguing about it. President Trump bashed it, and members of Congress are clamoring for the FCC to investigate. Others are Googling the unedited lyrics afterward and reacting as if that’s what actually aired.

That is an extraordinary amount of political energy directed at a 13-minute halftime show.

Say what you will, but the NFL knows what it’s doing; nothing on their stage happens by accident anymore.

They have learned the lessons of Nipplegate.

That being said, I don’t blame the artists. I suspect the NFL deliberately sparks controversy just to stay relevant. It’s been almost a week, and it’s still trending, which, from a bottom-line perspective, has to feel like a win.

They’ve made some pretty bold choices before, but what fascinates me is that the NFL isn’t purely one thing politically, no matter what people online will tell you.

It’s a business first.

They choose what keeps us engaged while expanding global appeal. That’s what businesses do.
Somehow, they’ve managed to be both edgy and conservative at the same time.

Same balance I strive for, honestly.

As for the “All-American Halftime Show” put on by Turning Point USA (as if Puerto Rico isn’t somehow American), I watched that too.

Despite the smaller stage and production, the performers were talented. The messaging leaned hard into faith, country, patriotism, military visuals - the whole bit.

And then Kid Rock came out and did Kid Rock things.

It felt the same as the other show: “This is our culture.”
It was aesthetically different. It was unapologetic and quite sure of itself.
It was also, at times, very cringe.
And if I’m being honest, the whole thing was painfully boring.

Yes, I still love Jesus, my family, the military, and my country.

But I was bored AF.

Sweet Caroline.
Don’t Stop Believin’.
We Will Rock You
Gangnam Style
Born in the USA
La Bamba
Tequila
Billie Jean
Purple Rain

You may not even like those songs, but most times you still end up singing along because they’re easy and feel tailor-made for a crowd.

It creates a lighthearted moment where nobody gives a damn how you live or who you love – you’re just enjoying the moment together.

To this day, I don’t know the exact words to Smells Like Teen Spirit but you can bet I’m yelling, “With the lights out, it’s less dangerous! Here we are now, entertain us!”

It’s got a good beat, and you can dance to it. And there’s always a motley crew of people around me doing the same.

We’re strangers from all walks of life who will likely never meet again, but for a couple of minutes, we’re all headbanging buddies.

Can’t that just be enough?

Unity doesn’t come from being told what to think. It comes from something so familiar that everyone can just jump in.  

This is supposed to be fun, and not once during either show did we get that moment.

The Super Bowl is about elite athletes in fierce competition (though I’m pretty sure that streaker ran more yards than the Patriots did).

For a few hours, we’re supposed to be united by sport.

There's a scene in Without Limits, where coach Bill Bowerman is talking with his team at the ’72 Olympics, in the aftermath of the Munich massacre. He explains how, in ancient Greece, warring states would lay down their weapons during the Games so they could compete against their enemies.

“They understood there was more honor in outrunning a man than killing him.”

Competition, not conquest, was sacred.
The Games were once humanity’s answer to war.

And now we can’t even get through a football game without turning it into cultural combat.

All this drama over an event that’s supposed to give us a damn break - a break from politics, media, the outrage machines, and the constant need to be the moral authority about goddamn everything.  

Instead, we got a boring-ass game, two ‘controversial’ halftime shows, and everybody arguing over petty shit.

And in the grand scheme of things, it is supremely petty shit given the actual problems we’re living with.

You know…I just wanted to pretend to watch a football game with my family and see if an oft-rumored Avengers: Doomsday trailer was going to air.

(It didn’t, so thanks for that, Marvel.)

I know it’ll never happen cause it wouldn’t be ‘edgy’ enough, but you know who would be fun next year?

Pitbull.

With surprise guest Weird AL.

Can you imagine a stadium filled with women dressed in suits and bald caps? Or people in crazy Hawaiian shirts and long curly wigs? All of them yelling "Dale" or "Eat it".

We don't even need any one specific artist. How about The Super Bowl Karaoke Halftime Show?

A medley of famous bangers for everyone from reggae to salsa, K-pop to techno, country to rock, and pop to…well, whatever’s left.

Just one epic, ridiculous party, every song with one thing in common:

It has a good beat, and you can dance to it.

Related Reads:

• Rock of Ages - Some music wins awards, and others transcend time. Thoughts on the Grammys and refusing to be the person who claims "music used to be better back then."
• Movies: Escape or Compass - A personal look at why the stories we watch could be shaping the lives we build.

Heather Papovich is a long-form essayist and cultural writer whose work examines real life through the lens of popular culture.

She is the founder of Unfinished Business, an independent digital publication blending personal narrative with cultural commentary, currently read in 33 verified countries.

Her writing focuses on reinvention, emotional truth, and the many ways film and long-running franchises help people navigate identity, connection, and meaning.