The American Spectator : The Spectacle Blog : Thus was perfection avoided

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There will be no joy in Mudville, let alone Boston. But there should be no shame in an 18-1 season. And New England’s performance last night was far superior to their first appearance in the Super Bowl in the mid-eighties when they played the armadillo to the Chicago Bears’ steel-belted radial.

The Giants peaked at the right time. They’ve been extremely good in their last few games whereas the Pats have been tentative in their last couple of games. The trend continued Sunday evening, and thus was perfection avoided. But it was a heck of a good game unless you’re a New England partisan.

The major blot on the evening, as usual, was the bizarre and overlong halftime show featuring a bunch of manic hair-pies who apparently steal their performance clothes from guys sleeping under bridges and who sound just like every other rock band in the known universe. I’ve no idea who likes this kind of “music.” Perhaps it would sound better with the aid of large amounts of controlled substances. But I don’t plan to find out.

Then there was yet another Whitney Houston wannabe abusing the National Anthem before the game. Good grief, the anthem is not a song you sing breathy and torchy. Sunday’s Whitney wannabe spent most of the song behind the beat and, as is the custom with singers of this sort, sang four notes where only one exists. Perhaps the American Idol crowd could perform a public service by conducting a thorough search of the lower 48 to locate an attractive young woman who has actually hear the “Star Spangled Banner” and is willing to sing it rather than wrestle it to the ground.