If you buy the media's view, a football game is mostly a battle between the two quarterbacks, and so from that perspective it would be easy to see yesterday's Super Bowl result as the boring old white guy beating the charismatic young black guy, and that narrative might make a sports fan some degree of sad.
Because let us reflect for a moment on just how boring he was. He was so boring it was almost fascinating. Think back to the post-game interview. He had just won the Super Bowl, the capstone and possibly the final punctuation on a remarkable career, and it was like Tracy Wolfson had asked his opinion about a moderately thought-provoking but deeply flawed book he'd just read and he was giving a carefully measured opinion. It was easier for him to shill for Budweiser than it was to seem like he was thrilled at being involved in the game, much less having played on the winning side. This isn't a time for passion or excitement, he seemed to be saying. This is a time for corporations to make money.
But I think any real focus on the boring white guy is to miss the better story. The boring old white guy played in such a way as to minimize his own mistakes. That is boring. It is not worthy of anything we describe as Super.
Let us tell a different story. There was something genuinely Super to behold. If we need synecdoche to describe and personalize the conflict, let's do it like this: the freakishly gifted and charismatic young black man wearing number 1 on his black jersey battling, and ultimately being bested by, not a boring old white guy, but instead, another freakishly gifted, charismatic young black man. This man's jersey bore the number 58.