For me, the Super Bowl is like a holiday observed by some obscure religion I know very little about. One day I’ll notice people behaving strangely, and then I’ll hear the term “Super Bowl Sunday” and all becomes clear.
I have no idea what teams were facing off that particular year, but I remember going to see Kenneth Branagh’s Henry V at the Montgomery arthouse cinema on Super Bowl Sunday and finding the house almost completely sold out. I even spotted Joyce Carol Oates in the audience. They had all said to themselves, “Screw football, I’m gonna go see a Shakespeare film.” My fondest Super Bowl Sunday memory.