The Super Bowl was, of course, the greatest show on Earth. If you wanted to create a time capsule to demonstrate to someone a hundred years from now the American mainstream circa 2023, last night would be it: patriotic pageantry, some relatively innocuous woke virtue-signaling, constant interruptions from commercial enterprises seeking more market share in a robustly free economy, a pregnant pop star rubbing her backside on stage, and a fantastic game of football.

The NFL knows how to create a good product. The recent innovations in the game have mostly made it more entertaining (going for it more often on fourth down; the addition of two-point conversions) whereas baseball’s innovations have made it less enjoyable (the shift; endless fiddling with batting gloves).

There were a bunch of columns in the wake of the Damar Hamlin incident about watching football guiltily. I understand the sentiment — the game has a major problem with head injuries — but there are very few people who were watching last night’s all-American extravaganza with any sense of guilt, from Johnny Cash’s “Ragged Old Flag” to Patrick Mahomes’s final drive, the capstone to a truly legendary performance.