Boy. First it was allegations of Michael Jackson feeling up kids, and now we have kids feeling up Michael Jackson’s sister. The 23-year-old Justin Timberlake, no doubt jealous that his ex, Britney Spears, got to kiss Madonna, took it one step further on Sunday evening, exposing Janet Jackson’s 38-year-old breast during the Super Bowl. Timberlake called it a “wardrobe malfunction,” and MTV said they knew nothing about it, even though they promised on their website days ago that the halftime show would contain “shocking moments.” (Did you miss it? It was right there beside the chance to send a free “blast a fart” e-card.)Now, this wasn’t originally going to be the lead item in Scene & Herd. I was going to talk about the Panthers, and how they came up short but still did the city proud. I was going to talk about how, earlier in the day, I happened upon one of the best benefits in the city, Soup on Sunday, and how great the whole affair was.
Know what? I still am. Screw MTV, Timberlake, the whole sad Jackson family, and CBS, the network that allows kids to see bare breasts on TV but not political commercials. The Panthers were in the Super Bowl, dammit, and no amount of the absurdity that other countries love to hate us for is going to stop me from writing about it.
But first, a few words about Soup on Sunday, or, as most people were calling it, “Souper Bowl Sunday.” The premise was simple. Pay $20, eat soup from dozens of restaurants, and have a beer or a Coke or two. Proceeds went to Hospice at Charlotte, and from the looks of things, they did pretty well. After entering the Citizen’s Center at CPCC, you basically just followed the steaming pots of soup, which lined both the upstairs and downstairs of the event, as well as the on-site kitchens used by the CPCC culinary school.
The soup was a perfect salve for my Super Bowl-sour stomach (especially the Waldhorn’s Apple Carrot, which might have been one of the most delicious concoctions I’ve ever eaten). Evidently, I wasn’t alone. Loads of people in Panthers attire sampled everything from gumbo to chowders to even a real-life pot of stone soup (made with actual stones, even — the concoction was served up by the daughter of one of the participating restaurant’s servers). I soon decided that pound for pound (and I probably gained a couple), this is probably the most value-added benefit you’re ever going to find. It’s always nice to throw an event for a good cause. If you can also give folks a good time, then you’ve got a real winner.
Speaking of which, there was a little football game Sunday evening. Two weeks of hype finally drew to a close, and Super Bowl XXXVIII was finally ready to begin (is it just me, or is this Roman numeral thing getting out of hand? It’s fine to add a faux sense of history to something like Ben Hur, but it just seems pretentious for a football game, especially since most folks can’t read them anyway).This was it: a chance for Charlotte to get fitted for her crown. A chance for people like Jake Delhomme and Stephen Davis and our hardworking defensive line to get the popular credit they so deserved. Downtown, fans seemed almost dulled by nervousness, picking at their food and not talking a whole hell of a lot. The Panthers must have felt the same way, because the team pretty much spent the whole first quarter punting the ball. Then, like clockwork, coach John Fox got out the heart paddles, and the Panthers soon put on one of the amazing comeback runs the team has become known for. People slowed down their drinking, and began to talk to their pals. People began to believe — and with the way this team has played all season, why not?
Of course, Adam Vinatieri nailed a field goal with a couple of seconds left to end it, much like our man John Kasay had done all year. The Panthers would fly back to Charlotte, and the Patriots would fly to Disney World.
Still, folks celebrated our Cinderella season, taking to the streets and honking their horns as they funneled out of the bars. There was a popular little Panthers rap I heard someone blaring when it was all over, which goes something like: “Carolina Panthers bringin’ the pain/Carolina fans are goin’ insane/When it’s all said and done you’ll respect that name.”
We won that last one, at least.
This article appears in Feb 4-10, 2004.
