I watched the first Super Bowl in 1967, and it was one of the great TV viewing experiences of my life.
The resonant, rock-steady call of play-by-play announcer Ray Scott and the 35-10 throttling that my beloved Green Bay Packers gave the brash Kansas City Chiefs was all any teenage sports fan could hope for — and then some. The pageantry, primitive as it was by today's outrageous standards, was pretty exciting to a 17-year-old boy.
I have watched every Super Bowl since, hoping to recapture that TV high. But I won't be watching this one Sunday on NBC.