Streaking: Ah, the good ol’ days | Tim Rowland | heraldmailmedia.com – Herald-Mail Media

Technically he wasnt a streaker because he appeared to be wearing underpants. But boy, did that take me back.

Perhaps the most entertaining thing in the second half of Sundays Super Bowl was some clown who got loose from the stands and went running across the field in the middle of a Chiefs drive, waving his arms over his head in classic dig me fashion as security guards made fools of themselves by whiffing as they tried to tackle him and administer justice.

When was streaking even a thing? 70s? 80s? 90s? I honestly dont remember, its just one of those random islands floating back somewhere in the past like mag wheels and the way teenage boys used to wear their pants around their thighs.

Streaking was cemented into the culture by a Ray Stevens song, The Streak, in 1974 one of those novelty songs that was funny for the first three times you heard it, but then became painfully tedious, especially since AM radio seemed contractually bound to play it once every 20 minutes.

By the way, when I was Googling streaking, I came across this actual paragraph in Wikipedia, which is bizarre on so many levels: The first recorded incident of streaking by a college student in the United States occurred in 1804 at Washington College when senior George William Crump was arrested for running naked through Lexington, Va. Robert E. Lee later sanctioned streaking as a rite of passage for young Washington and Lee gentlemen. Crump was suspended for the academic session, but later went on to become a U.S. Congressman.

He wasnt a streaker, but the first person I recall running onto the field was a fan in 1971 who entered the gridiron and grabbed the ball briefly before having the snot knocked out of him by the late Baltimore Colts linebacker Mike Curtis. But that didnt discourage the practice, and before long it seemed as if hardly a sporting event would go by before someone in various stages of undress would race across the field of play.

For a while, TV cameras would follow the merriment, until some stuffy network executive decided this only encouraged the bad behavior. After that, announcers would gather up their most sanctimonious voice and go to great lengths explaining how they were not going to give airtime to some idiot.

It had been so long, though, that Jim Nance and Tony Romo laughed it off, and the camera actually followed him for a while. It also had been so long that now, as opposed to 20 years ago, we were treated to the full show by people posting cellphone video to Twitter.

Which was certainly more entertaining than the bandaged/red-jacketed halftime show entourage, which looked as if all the descendants of Jason from Friday the 13th had gotten together and started their own valet service.

Maybe it was a reflection of the past year, but the scary-movie thread ran strong through the evening. The live people in the stands interspaced with cardboard cutouts were indubitably creepy. Every time they showed a crowd shot, it made me understand why some children are afraid of clowns.

And the era of the clever Super Bowl ad is officially dead, or mostly so. The very first ad did not feature chimps in suits, talking frogs or horses kicking extra points it was a promo for a horror film.

Some were OK, but for the first time ever you felt as if you could go make a sandwich during the ads and you wouldnt miss anything. Oat milk? Seriously?

I do understand that I might miss the humor in some commercials because there are pop culture references that Im too old to understand. But Im OK with that; I like to think its one more thing Tom Brady and I have in common.

Tim Rowland is a Herald-Mail columnist.

Tim Rowland is a Herald-Mail columnist.

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Streaking: Ah, the good ol' days | Tim Rowland | heraldmailmedia.com - Herald-Mail Media