2. So far I’ve seen far more 49ers fans than Ravens fans.
3. This Super Bowl is far larger than the ones before. For example: there are 200 more rigging points for the NFL Experience in the Ernest Morial Convention Center than there was last year in Indianapolis.
4. The 49ers-Saints rivalry is still decently strong; football fans don’t forget, folks.
5. Exclusive parties were just about everywhere Friday night.
Celeb sightings: New Orleans has a mercurial love-hate with the Super Bowl, decrying its improvements in ultimately touristy areas, yet freaking the fuck out after seeing Neil Patrick Harris was in Jackson Square. This swinging pendulum is par for the course, especially in the celebrity world. New Orleanians endure tens of hundreds of movies being filmed in and around their city each year, both big budget and student films. We know when to give a star space and when it approach them like human beings.
Capitalism at its finest: So far I’ve seen AXE Body Spray astronauts, a DIRECTV blimp circling the Super Dome, (we won’t even get into how fucking dumb an aerial shot of a game you can’t see outdoors is) and the NFL Safe/Danger Zone wreak havoc from the downtown to the CBD (Central Business District). Just about everything is sponsored by something else; somewhat a friendly reminder that the NFL is still a business, folks. Despite a competitive game there’s still a bottom line freshly washed with Old Spice and Head and Shoulders.
Fiery numerals: If there’s one thing any human from just about anywhere can get excited about, it’s a fiery display of celebration. Thursday night saw the Super Bowl roman numerals (that’s XLVII) set along the riverfront and illuminated by fireworks. No matter how you felt about the big game, the city’s pyrotechnic side most definitely took over once the first mortar went off.