It seems too much like an urban legend to be true that the Super Bowl was named after a children's novelty toy that was popular in the mid-1960s.
The name of America's biggest sport event got its name from a Wham-O toy called "Super Ball." The story was recounted in Michael MacCambridge's book, "America's Game."
Once the NFL-AFL merger was announced, discussions began about the inaugural championship game between the winners of the two leagues. A group of seven men were tasked with the specifics. During the course of the meetings, it became confusing when the men referred to "the championship game" because the others didn't know whether he was referring to the league championship games or the finale, which still didn't have a name. To end the mix-ups, Kansas City Chiefs founder Lamar Hunt jokingly referred to the final championship game as the "Super Bowl." In the middle of 1966, he wrote commissioner Pete Rozelle and said the group needed to come up with an official name for the game. "If possible," he wrote, "I believe we should 'coin a phrase' for the Championship Game. I have kiddingly called it the 'Super Bowl,' which obviously can be improved upon."
Rozelle agreed. The league's publicity director recalled that the commissioner despised the word "super," because it didn't have any sophistication. Rozelle was evidently a "stickler on words and grammar." The game would be known as the "AFL-NFL World Championship Game."
That bulky title didn't last. People caught wind of Hunt's name and soon everyone, from media members to players, were calling the title game "the Super Bowl." The NFL was slow to adapt, though. It wasn't until the third game that the words "Super Bowl" appeared on the official game program and the fourth game when the phrase appeared on tickets.
Showing posts with label Super Bowl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Super Bowl. Show all posts
Sunday
Black Eyed Peas Vs. Tron: A Super Bowl Contest No One Wins
As it turns out, there are far, far duller ways to pass the time at a half-time show than counting the wrinkles on classic rockers. Like counting the times in just the past few months we've seen the Black Eyed Peas on television doing pretty much this same schtick they did at the Super Bowl. If you want to make sure you have the least anticipated Bowl half-time in modern history, a sure bet is to book a group that would show up to play a supermarket ribbon-cutting.
The Super Bowl's producers spent the last few years trying to avoid any chance of another wardrobe malfunction, after the Janet 'n' Justin fracas, resulting in a succession of post-50 superstars like Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, and the Who. Come back, AARP-rockers... all is forgiven.
If you felt like Tron Legacy missed a bet by not having Jeff Bridges lead a war platoon's worth of boogying hoofers at the climax, Super Bowl XLV made up for that missed opportunity.
Also, Usher did the splits. We can only imagine the legions of seamstresses employed to make sure those pants could survive nuclear fission.
Special guest star Slash, playing lead guitar while Fergie sang "Sweet Child of Mine"? Dancers with boxes on their heads? That conceptual gambit isn't any fresher now than it was when the Peas brought out the box-heads on multiple TV appearances last fall.
The live-or-Memorex questions that typically fly after a halftime show were rendered moot here. The Peas' hits usually involve more shouting than singing, anyway, so staying on pitch was not going to pose many problems except in a handful of Fergie moments. When Will.i.am sings nowadays, it's through the most blatantly distorted AutoTune in the first place, so the real question is how faithfully his vocals' robotic nature could be replicated just as robotically. Usher's singing was clearly less live when he came out to perform "Oh My God," but the camera angles made it tough to tell if he was even pretending to sing, before he pulled off the leap-and-spread stunt that was his cameo appearance's sole raison d'etre.
Initially appearing all in white, they appeared like the universe's most enthusiastic cult, before scattering across the field like schools of fish and switching on their Christmas lights.
As Steve Martin tweeted after halftime: "I learned so much about love during the halftime show. Wow."
Way to anticipate that youthful zeitgeist, Super Bowl producers! For 2012, we can only hope for P. Diddy and some swing-dancing Star Wars stormtroopers.
The Super Bowl's producers spent the last few years trying to avoid any chance of another wardrobe malfunction, after the Janet 'n' Justin fracas, resulting in a succession of post-50 superstars like Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, and the Who. Come back, AARP-rockers... all is forgiven.
If you felt like Tron Legacy missed a bet by not having Jeff Bridges lead a war platoon's worth of boogying hoofers at the climax, Super Bowl XLV made up for that missed opportunity.
Also, Usher did the splits. We can only imagine the legions of seamstresses employed to make sure those pants could survive nuclear fission.
Special guest star Slash, playing lead guitar while Fergie sang "Sweet Child of Mine"? Dancers with boxes on their heads? That conceptual gambit isn't any fresher now than it was when the Peas brought out the box-heads on multiple TV appearances last fall.
The live-or-Memorex questions that typically fly after a halftime show were rendered moot here. The Peas' hits usually involve more shouting than singing, anyway, so staying on pitch was not going to pose many problems except in a handful of Fergie moments. When Will.i.am sings nowadays, it's through the most blatantly distorted AutoTune in the first place, so the real question is how faithfully his vocals' robotic nature could be replicated just as robotically. Usher's singing was clearly less live when he came out to perform "Oh My God," but the camera angles made it tough to tell if he was even pretending to sing, before he pulled off the leap-and-spread stunt that was his cameo appearance's sole raison d'etre.
Initially appearing all in white, they appeared like the universe's most enthusiastic cult, before scattering across the field like schools of fish and switching on their Christmas lights.
As Steve Martin tweeted after halftime: "I learned so much about love during the halftime show. Wow."
Way to anticipate that youthful zeitgeist, Super Bowl producers! For 2012, we can only hope for P. Diddy and some swing-dancing Star Wars stormtroopers.
Tuesday
Why do retailers refer to the Super Bowl as 'the big game'?
Super Bowl Sunday is the biggest pizza delivery day of the year and two of the nation's largest chains are preparing. On Papa John's website there's no less than five references to Super Bowl XLV and the NFL. Pizza Hut's site, on the other hand, includes only a conspicuous reference to "the big game."
Local car dealerships, furniture stores, electronics outlets and other advertisers will be promoting Super Bowl sales without actually saying those two words.
"Come out and save on a new HD TV before the big game."
"Need room for your championship party? Furniture Center has couches for no money down!"
"Sunday is game day in Dallas. Stock up on party supplies at Party Central."
Why do companies promote the "big game" or "championship parties" instead of saying "Super Bowl'? And why, if there are football players in the commercial, are they always for a generic non-NFL team?
Advertisers pay huge amounts of money to become an official sponsor of the NFL. In doing so, they buy the right to use league logos, game footage, branding and the trademarked phrases "Super Bowl" and "Super Sunday." Companies that don't pay the premium resort to "ambush marketing" to get around this, hence generic phrases like "big game" and the use of non-NFL jerseys and game footage.
It varies depending on the product, but for big advertisers the price can be astronomical. The NFL is vigilant in protecting its copyrighted phrases. Some companies push ambush marketing to the limits. Electronics store HH Gregg features a circular that uses the word "Super" and the roman numerals "XLV." It wouldn't be surprising if the retailer heard from the NFL prior to the Super -- er, big game.
Local car dealerships, furniture stores, electronics outlets and other advertisers will be promoting Super Bowl sales without actually saying those two words.
"Come out and save on a new HD TV before the big game."
"Need room for your championship party? Furniture Center has couches for no money down!"
"Sunday is game day in Dallas. Stock up on party supplies at Party Central."
Why do companies promote the "big game" or "championship parties" instead of saying "Super Bowl'? And why, if there are football players in the commercial, are they always for a generic non-NFL team?
Advertisers pay huge amounts of money to become an official sponsor of the NFL. In doing so, they buy the right to use league logos, game footage, branding and the trademarked phrases "Super Bowl" and "Super Sunday." Companies that don't pay the premium resort to "ambush marketing" to get around this, hence generic phrases like "big game" and the use of non-NFL jerseys and game footage.
It varies depending on the product, but for big advertisers the price can be astronomical. The NFL is vigilant in protecting its copyrighted phrases. Some companies push ambush marketing to the limits. Electronics store HH Gregg features a circular that uses the word "Super" and the roman numerals "XLV." It wouldn't be surprising if the retailer heard from the NFL prior to the Super -- er, big game.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)