Super Bowl: The show that swats away restraint in favour of unbridled, unapologetic razzmatazz

Those 30-second TV commercials costing $7.7m are now as big a draw for many Americans as the game itself. The Super Bowl is a social event, with parties attended by young and old, male and female, each with their own interest

It is testament to the Super Bowl’s incessant need to be bigger and better every year that Sunday’s renewal sees not just a flyover from military aircraft (ugh, how passé) but a fly-past from a raft of vintage Second World War fighter planes in formation, one mounted with a camera that will beam back its lofty view of Minnesota’s sprawling tundra live on NBC.

And it is testament to how ludicrous the showbiz aspect of one of the world’s great sporting events has become that those F-16 Falcons and A-10 Thunderbolts will be flying over an entirely enclosed stadium, meaning spectators in attendance will likely hear the rumble but not actually see anything at all.

At its most basic level, the Super Bowl is the climax of the NFL season, the champions of the league’s two conferences playing a one-off game for the Vince Lombardi trophy.

But the flyover that nobody inside the sparkling new US Bank Stadium will even witness betrays what this event is really about. It is a televisual megashow, a one-game industry in its own right that swats away common sense, restraint and anything approaching normalcy in favour of unbridled, unapologetic razzmatazz.

In the age of Netflix, of cord-cutters, mobile streaming and life on-demand, live sporting events are one of the few remaining things that will still have people gathered around a television set. It is why the Premier League’s increasing wealth is so tied to the eyewatering broadcast deals they can negotiate around the globe, and it is why a 30-second commercial during this weekend’s Super Bowl would set you back a cool $7.7m (£5.5m) to produce and air.

Those commercials are now as big a draw for many Americans as the game itself. The Super Bowl is a social event, with parties attended by young and old, male and female, each with their own interest.

For the hardcore football fan there is the question of whether the Philadelphia Eagles’ trench warfare can derail the New England Patriots juggernaut. For a more casual sports enthusiast, there is the nice feeling that you might just be witnessing history and, should Tom Brady win a sixth Super Bowl at the ripe old age of 40, seeing the crowning moment of a sporting dynasty you will tell your grandchildren about.

Tom Brady will lead the New England Patriots into a third Super Bowl in four years (Getty)

Those who care less about the action on the field will tune in for the commercials, which become more peculiar and out-there with each passing year. Skittles’ effort this year stars David Schwimmer of Friends fame and has been made at great expense. But the 110 million viewers at home won’t get to see that; they will instead be watching a person watching the Schwimmer commercial, and their reaction, sat on a sofa, is what NBC will beam into American households to those who are, in turn, sat on their sofa. Think of it as a cross between Gogglebox and Inception, but dreamed up by hyper-caffeinated advertising execs.

And even if you don’t care about the minutiae of whether nose tackle Fletcher Cox can disrupt Dante Scarnecchia’s finely tuned offensive line, or the basics of watching Bill Belichick and Tom Brady make history, or the glut of bizarre advertisements that punctuate the most-watched television broadcast in America, then you might still want to take in the half-time show.

This year sees Justin Timberlake return, 14 years on from his collaboration with Janet Jackson that ended with the infamous “wardrobe malfunction”, a neologism still used to this day.

Janet Jackson's infamous 'wardrobe malfunction' in 2004 (Getty)

Pre-game will see pop star Pink warble The Star-Spangled Banner, such a famously strung-out process that betting on the length of the national anthem is almost tradition. And when she finishes that final word, the hopelessly lengthened and barely distinguishable “brave”, fireworks will crackle and fire, the crowd will go wild and the stadium will be abuzz for the culmination of one of the most talked-about NFL seasons in history.

Four hours later, the pyrotechnics will return to crown a champion. A world champion, as they say in these parts. Under a monsoon of confetti, the victorious team will flood the field and upturn an ice box full of Gatorade over the winning coach before he even has a chance to process that he is about to win the Vince Lombardi trophy.

Those traditions are set in stone. They happen so instinctively now that there is no doubt they will happen and, on Monday, we can discuss where the respective teams go from here. One doused in champagne and the other wallowing in heartbreak.

And it is testament to the Super Bowl’s incessant need to be bigger and better every year that this heartbreak, beamed around the world amid a backdrop of sparkle and celebration, is the biggest, most sensationally over-the-top heartbreak in sport.

Super Bowl LII, Sunday, Sky Sports from 11pm, BBC1 from 11.15pm