That he disrobed Janet Jackson, violently yanking at her leather jacket to expose one of her breasts during 2004’s halftime, clearly doesn’t strike the NFL as a deterrent from an encore engagement. More likely, it seems a marketing ploy to create a buzz then to stick with this halftime show in anticipation of, well, you never know.
The NFL’s high-bar is so low that after Seattle’s Doug Baldwin scored in the 2015 Super Bowl, his sense of “spontaneous fun” was to use the football to mime an end-zone defecation. He remained in the game.
The NFL will now pay Goodell in excess of $40 million per year to keep on keeping on, as if big-business folks — team owners — are blissfully unaware that there has never been a graph with a growth line that points straight up.
As if the NFL isn’t now bleeding from the abandonment of clear-headed folks who can no longer suffer what the NFL has become, from foresight-barren replay rules, to mindlessly excessive, remorseless brutality that incites ritual group joy among teammates — mostly full scholarship college men who behave, on and off the clock, like incorrigible, self-entitled, immodest, undignified adolescents, though frequently charged as adults.
Rodgers, out with shoulder surgery since Oct. 15, was back but didn’t play because the Packers were eliminated. Luck, injured, hasn’t played all season for the now-3-12 Colts.
The 49ers were dreadful on defense in 2016 and have no answer at safety opposite former LSU product Eric Reid. New GM John Lynch might see a little of himself in Adams, who will infuse this defense with some life and energy and become an immediate leader on that side of the ball. Not to mention, he will aid both the league’s worst pass defense and the 14th-ranked run defense from his safety position.
“Tarik Cohen just returned a punt 132 yards for a touchdown!” Siciliano proclaims on the air. On his next check of Twitter, a viewer tells him he was close, that Cohen had run 127 yards, prompting Siciliano to ask Thibault if any advanced metrics had been released for the play. When CBS finally shows the comet-trail replay, Siciliano shouts, “C.mon, get to 132, get to 132!” The yardage counter stops at 127.