An Open Letter to Roger Goodell

Dear Roger Goodell,

Here at G:TB, we occasionally write an epistle for the greater good. I am so sorry that it has come to this, but I am forced to unleash my super-potent rhetorical forces on you. If you doubt my powers, simply read this, and you will know what is in store for you.

My first demand: move the Super Bowl to Saturday. And it's got to be now! Let's do this! Let's do this thing. Do it. Do it now! 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . Do it! 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1. . . Now! Do it now!



On a more serious note, Mr. Goodell, some of us have to work early on Monday morning, but that is not the only reason for moving the Super Bowl to Saturday. The main reason is more profound than it is pragmatic. Moving the Super Bowl to Saturday will be good for the collective consciousness of our great nation. Our great nation, that is slowly splintering, slowly fragmenting due to technology. That is not to say that the digital revolution is not wonderful. Time restraints have been conquered. Choices in media abound. This blog exists. With a minimum amount of effort, you can read what you want, listen to what you want, and, of course, you can watch what you want . . . when you want to watch it.

But all this convenience comes at a price. There is very little shared culture now in America. In the old days, on Friday morning, people would analyze the latest episode of Seinfeld. Now, we don't even watch sporting events at the same time. Everyone is on their own private schedule, living in their own private Idaho.

Except for the Super Bowl. Everyone makes time for the Super Bowl. You don't need to be a football fan to attend a Super Bowl party. There is food and drinking and gambling, and people even behave altruistically and watch the commercials, further propagating the insane revenues that said commercials generate. An event such as this should not be constrained by the looming presence of Monday morning. An event such as this should be beyond festive, beyond convivial . . . it should be Bacchanal. I shouldn't be worrying about this.

Say it to yourself. Superbowl Saturday. It's still alliterative. And think about the good you would be doing the nation. I cannot begin to estimate the lost productivity on the Monday after the Super Bowl: the sick-days, the lateness, the sleep deprived air-traffic controllers, the still drunk elementary school bus drivers. Do it for those elementary school kids, the kids that have to be driven to school by a drunk, because the Super Bowl starts late Sunday night. Do it for my students, who deserve to start the second semester with an energetic, well-rested teacher, who enjoyed himself immensely Saturday night at a Super Bowl party, and then got a good night's sleep on Sunday. Do it! Let's do this thing! Let's do this thing now! 3 . . . 2 . . .1 . . . Do it!

My second and final demand is this: let the team with the best record host the Super Bowl. Let it be a home game, and if it has to be played in Pittsburgh in the snow, then so be it. This is football. If I look out my kitchen window, I'm staring at four foot high snow banks, so when I turn on the Super Bowl-- the greatest single contest in sports-- I don't want to see a bunch of rich folks wearing t-shirts partying down in some warm location. I want to see frost-bitten cheerleaders and three hundred pound men slipping on ice.

Occasionally, the Super Bowl will be in a warm location, but most of the time, if you want to go to the greatest shared cultural event in America, you will have to suffer. There will be flight delays, difficulties getting to the stadium, drunks with hypothermia, and late season football the way it is meant to be played. So what do you say, Roger? Let's do this thing! Super Bowl Saturday in the Snow! 3 . . . 2 . . .1 . . . Do it! Now!

Your friend,

Dave