Monday, February 02, 2015

The Superb Owl (XLIX)

Last night the Super Bowl livestreamed from 0:30 UTC +1. I was fortunately awake anyway, though determined to begin watching at halftime, worried that the game might be frustrating and therefore better watched in moderation. In the end I enjoyed watching it, though I had wanted the Seattle Seahawks to win for no greater reason than that the players were halfway familiar from the last Super Bowl and relatively sympathetic, and that having lived a few kilometres north of Seattle instills a parochial loyalty.

Even if I had paid attention all the time, I am not acquainted with the rules of American football yet, and can't pretend to an informed view on Katy Perry or Lenny Kravitz or Missy Elliot and their performances at halftime, didn't watch any of the advertising except maybe in excerpts afterwards, and missed even the national anthem as sung by Idina Menzel. So there is nothing much worth writing on my part.

STILL, a vignette of fleeting glory —

RUSSELL WILSON (I think), the Seattle Seahawks' quarterback, fires the ball at a teammate — Jermaine Kearse — on the far margin of the Patriots' half. The ball slips into the air from Kearse's fingertips, falls, and skips off his thigh as he himself falls. He tries to trap it with his hands; it glides through the pincers of his arms. It flies off his hand a third time as he twirls — still lying on his back — in a half-circle to trail its trajectory. Finally, he cups it safely in his hands as if it were a holy grail and he a Knight of the Round Table.*

The first nearby Patriots player has fallen even flatter. Another Patriot is trying to rise far away from the Seahawk's head. I think that announcers at the time said that the Patriots were neglecting the ball since they figured that it had already been invalidated. Watching the playbacks I'd say there was little time to think much of anything, and that avoiding a gnarly injury in the melée was rightfully a first consideration. (Which is perhaps why I am not an athlete, or a sports announcer.)

At any rate, the Seahawk sits up again, gets to his feet and gradually runs off the playing field in a tiny tangent. His team can remain in possession of the ball, almost a jump away from the Patriots endzone.

We all know how that ended. But for a shining instant I was really looking forward to another Seahawks touchdown. It would have brought them, as far as I can follow the rules of the game, to a 31-28 lead over the Patriots in pretty much the final minute.

***
Detailed observations from: "Jermaine Kearse's Insane Super Bowl Catch, In Extreme Slow Motion" (Deadspin)

* I was going to write Percival, but I hated Percival after reading his legend (rewritten and abridged) as a child.
N.B.: The 'Superb Owl' anagram is courtesy of Stephen Colbert.

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