Much to my amazement, this was the sort of people I identified with most in Indianapolis. Go Giants!

The moment the Giants won, when the crowd went wild. Including Spike Lee, who is in the front left of this picture.

I love a marching band. Here’s one at the official pre-game tailgate party in the Convention Center

Lenny Kravitz is a football fan. Who knew? Here is the pierced and tank topped musical artist at the official tailgate.

Me as Tom Brady. This is probably the closest I’ll ever get to sleeping with Gisele. (Which I’m OK with. She’s quite a talker.)

The crowd at the Super Bowl. A heaving, drunken, loud mass.

Don’t be sad, my man. You already won the Super Bowl, and you have Gisele, cute kids, the adoration of the entire town of Boston, and all the Ugg boots you ever could want.

Looking back on my Sunday night in Indianapolis, the first thing I think of is the music. I mean, I did not expect to see, within 24 hours, live performances from Jane’s Addiction, Lenny Kravitz, Madonna and Maroon 5. The Super Bowl is the new Coachella. Who knew?

Past the soundtrack, however, was the excitement of the game itself. I grew up in Missouri and I went to a public high school that loved its athletics program. (My brother, Chris, took his basketball team to the District Championships. Go Cougars!) So I know my way around a sporting event. But I could have never imagined the scale of the Super Bowl. Everywhere I looked I saw dollar signs: People had flown in from all over the world and paid outrageous hotel mark ups, beers were $10 a pop, rental cars were thousands of dollars a day and it costs $350 just to park. (I kept asking people why they didn’t just park on the street and pay the ticket? That’s me, being too practical.) The fine folks at Nike generously sorted me out with my tickets, and for that I’m extremely grateful. I will Just Do It forever now.

When the game started  I could see that it was all worth it. It was a good game, a nail-biter till the end. The crowd was emotional, the spirit was jovial, and it seemed that everyone was in the mood to be fun, happy drunks, as opposed to macho, idiot drunks looking for a fight. (I love a happy drunk, people.) Unexpectedly, it was one of the most fun Sundays of my life: I ate hot dogs, drank beer, and I didn’t even care when my shoes got dirty. That was something else I noticed at the Super Bowl: In my Louis Vuitton scarf and my Dior Homme jeans and my special customized letterman’s jacket, I thought I was the best dressed dude in the dome. But to the other fellas, in their jerseys, ill fitting Levi’s, New Balance tennis shoes and Starter jackets, I probably was dressed confusing poorly. Is that guy wearing a leopard print pashmina?

Wait, there are more pictures!

Who doesn’t love a cheerleader?

My date for the day, Harper’s Bazaar’s Kristina O’Neill, quickly realized that when the Super Bowl comes to town, it’s all hands on deck. Anything with four wheels, even this limosine from the early 1980s, was rolled out for the festivities. (Truth be told: I think it’s fabulous.)

Madonna! I thought it was charming that all those big guys in tight Spandex chased around that odd-shaped football before and after the Madonna concert.

After Madonna, Nicki Minaj and M.I.A., these were my three favorite sexy sausages at the Super Bowl.

Just in case I thought I was the most random person at the Super Bowl this year, Dave Navvaro came and performed (topless) at the Rolling Stone party to make me feel better about myself.

And look, it’s Perry Farrell from Jane’s Addiction too.

My favorite Super Bowl fan.