Nobody watches the Super Bowl for sport, so nobody knows if the Cardigans or the Teapots won yesterday.

But they do watch the Super Bowl for one thing – boobies. Across the world yesterday, hundreds of millions of people tuned into to the Super Bowl to see who’d accidentally flop a knocker out during the halftime show. Sadly, all we got was Bruce Springsteen.

Bruce Springsteen yesterday performed a Super Bowl halftime set that was as flat and lifeless as any in recent memory, and he’s received lukewarm reviews for it at best. Plus, let’s be honest, his tits are terrible.

Aside from the actual football – which couldn’t be more dreary if it took place between two different gangs of nearly-dead emphysemic pensioners – people tend to watch the Super Bowl for either the ads or the halftime show. And usually one of those will have something going for it.

Not this year, though. As far as the Superbowl commercials went, we were spared Kevin Federline and adorably violent homophobia and instead got two things that made us instinctively dry-heave – the first was Bob Dylan doing a duet with Will.i.am in an advert for Pepsi, and the second was that 3D promo for Jay Leno‘s new show where he drove around, tried to poke us in the eye with his chin and pulled a horrifyingly smug face all at the same time. Never say Jay Leno can’t multitask.

As for the music, the Super Bowl halftime show continued its dull tradition of violently eschewing sexiness and showmanship in favour of ground-out craftmanship. Bruce Springsteen was the performer last night, and in his 12-minute slot he avoided recent controversies like the Janet Jackson nipple-slip or the Prince devil penis so that he could concentrate on belting out some of his biggest hits.

Well, some of his biggest hits and a new song. A new song that sounds like it was written by a cynically-minded internet Bruce Springsteen song generator that’s on the fritz. And, because of that, the reviews of Bruce Springsteen’s Super Bowl halftime show haven’t been all that amazing. The New York Times reports:

The final discomforts were all Springsteen’s. At the end, he shouted inexplicably, “I’m going to Disneyland!” A moment earlier, a man dressed as a referee appeared on stage, threw a yellow flag and crossed his arms in front of Springsteen, the signal for delay of game. Springsteen mock fretted about the ticking clock, and Van Zandt protested, screaming, “It’s Boss time!” Except that it wasn’t, and everyone knew it.

Maybe it’s a little harsh to criticise Bruce Springsteen for his performance – a 12-minute Super Bowl halftime show didn’t really give him the chance to show off what he does best, which is a) playing concerts that go on for such incalculably long periods of time that members of the audience routinely end up developing spinal fusion, full-length beards and elderly incontinence, and b) singing songs about bumming prostitues.

But, hey, at least nobody saw any nipples – even if we do suspect that if the Super Bowl continues to book halftime acts based on their sturdy reliability, then next year we’ll be treated to a 12-minute set by an actual sack of potatos.

And, you know. At least it wasn’t Tom Petty again. That’s something to be thankful for, at least.

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