The Super Bowl halftime show happened. Bad Bunny performed. And if your social media feed looks anything like mine, you’re fairly certain the man committed treason on live television.
I watched it. The whole thing. And I have thoughts.
But first, let’s talk about what actually happened, since apparently that’s optional now.
Bad Bunny, a Puerto Rican artist, took the stage. Lady Gaga and Ricky Martin performed. Jessica Alba and Cardi B danced. A real couple actually got married on stage. A young boy representing Bad Bunny as a child received a Grammy in a full-circle moment about the artist’s journey.
The camera work was incredibly sharp. The production was massive. It was, by any technical measure, a spectacle.
I’m a musician, and was it my thing? No. The music didn’t move me the way other halftime shows have. But I’m not out here telling everyone how insulted I am.
Some did.
Let’s start with the complaint I heard most: “I couldn’t understand the lyrics.”
Welcome to my world. I’ve been listening to rock music for decades, and half the time I have no idea what anyone is saying. I survived The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, and Nirvana without a translator. I made it through Back in Black without subtitles. Eddie Vedder has been creatively mumbling into microphones since 1990, and we gave him a Grammy anyway. If lyrical clarity were the standard, we’d have canceled half of classic rock before I graduated high school.
Music isn’t a transcript.
Then there’s the “Bad Bunny is a foreigner” problem. Except… he’s not. Puerto Rico is a United States territory. Has been since 1898. Bad Bunny is an American citizen. He’s more American than British halftime headliners, Mick Jagger, Paul McCartney, The Who, Coldplay. More American than the Canadian halftime acts we’ve celebrated on that stage, like Shania Twain and The Weeknd.
If that surprises you, that’s a geography problem. Not a programming problem.
Then it gets even more interesting.
Some viewers, deeply offended by what they called an “un-American” performance, made a choice. They switched the channel to watch Kid Rock’s “All American Christian Halftime Show.”
The same Kid Rock who’s now drawing scrutiny for writing lyrics like: “See me cruisin’ in my Caddy. Hoes, they like to call me daddy.” And “Young ladies, young ladies, I like ’em underage, see some say that’s statutory, but I say it’s mandatory.”
That’s the alternative. The “All American ‘Christian’” option (shoulder shrug). I didn’t see this, so I won’t comment.
Now, importantly, free speech protects both performances. That’s the whole point. I’m not saying Kid Rock shouldn’t be allowed to perform. I’m saying if you clutched your pearls over Bad Bunny and then ran to the guy who wrote those lyrics, you didn’t escape controversy. You just picked a different one.
And if you switched the channel before the first halftime chorus? Don’t judge what you refused to see. You opted out and chose comfort over curiosity. That’s your right. But an abstainer can’t be the critic.
The NFL isn’t hiding intentions. They’re going global. Games in London. Games in Germany. Soon, more in Mexico City, Brazil… who knows where else. The halftime show will reflect more international artists, languages, and styles that aren’t tailored specifically to your playlist.
You can be offended by that. You can keep switching channels. Or you can sit with something unfamiliar for twelve minutes and see what happens.
I didn’t dig the music, but did appreciate the show itself. I watched it, formed an opinion based on what I actually saw, and moved on. That used to be normal.
Our military didn’t fight for a curated playlist. They fought for the whole library… including the parts that make you uncomfortable. Especially those.
You don’t have to like Bad Bunny. I didn’t. But I listened. And that’s the difference between having an opinion and just having a reaction.
One requires twelve minutes. The other just requires a remote.
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Tegan Broadwater spent 13 years with the Fort Worth Police Department, including two years assigned to the FBI working deep undercover inside a violent Crip organization. That operation, detailed in his book Life in the Fishbowl, resulted in 51 convictions. He has since founded Tactical Systems Network, an armed security & protection firm primarily staffed by veterans, is a creative writer and musician, and hosts The Tegan Broadwater Podcast. All book profits benefit children of incarcerated parents. Learn more at TeganBroadwater.com
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