"In the biggest game of the year, on the biggest stage there is, I sucked," New York Giants’ quarterback Kerry Collins told reporters after his offense was held scoreless in the Superbowl. "It’s as simple as that."

If only it were so simple.

Super Bowl XXXV was more than one man that sucked. It was more than one team that sucked. It was CBS/NFL’s ultimate attempt at corporate synergy that, well, syner-sucked. Yes, it sucked even more than the sum of its parts.

If Super Bowl XXXV is all-American, stamp my passport. Swipe a Bic lighter from a 14 year-old that showed up just to cheer N’Sync to an encore and light up my Social Security card.

Super Bowl XXXV is to sports as the swimsuit issue is to Sports Illustrated: a spectacle meant to sell and destined to frustrate.

But the course of the game wasn’t destined to be bad, you might say. Fair enough. But problems lurked below the surface from the beginning.

Could they have planned a more disastrous Super Bowl?

Begin anything with a six-hour pre-game show and anti-climax is sure to follow. End the pre-game show with a talented but nevertheless blind entertainer singing about the visual imagery of the American landscape and you get an ironic sense of the disingenuousness to follow.

The next logical step is to fly a stealth killing machine over a stadium filled to the brim with people. What better symbol of our national mentality could be found to introduce the Backstreet Boys, arguably the most soulless group in America, to sing the National Anthem, which should be our most meaningful song. Are fans of the Backstreet Boys really the demographic a Super Bowl telecast is attempting to appeal to? Isn’t Super Bowl Sunday in fact the least likely time that pre-teenage girls might have dominion over the household remote control?

Admittedly, we learned things so important to our society that our biggest corporations were willing to spend millions just to tell us, and all before the game began. A particularly relevant piece of information comes to mind: Anderson Consulting is now Accenture. Ah, the joy of commercials.

And then the football game began. If you can call it that. What with those assigned to move the first down chains falling asleep on the job. And punters from both teams being rushed to the hospital after suffering from exhaustion after the game. All in all, the Ravens managed to win a game that lacked the excitement of a blowout and the drama and suspense of a close game.

Oh, and then there was halftime. So many celebrities, so little time. For the first time sparks flew on the field. Aerosmith wondered if it should be honored or insulted to be asked to play halftime with Britney Spears, N’SYNC, Mary J. Blige, and Nelly. Admittedly, CBS producers showed class and restraint by not circling Britney Spears in slow motion with their Matrix-esque circle vision stadium cams.

The half-time show, however, was nothing compared to the breathtaking analysis following the game. The "experts" discovered what hundreds of sports writers across the country figured out immediately after the game: it’s difficult to offer insightful analysis when all there is to say is that the Ravens’ defense is awesome, the Giants’ offense is awful, and that’s the game.

At least we have a victor to be happy for. Except that the MVP is probably guilty of murder. And his most standout stat line was: seven tackles.

But they make the Super Bowl Champions’ tee shirts and hats before the game is decided, right? So maybe a million or so people in some impoverished country will have new "Giants, Super Bowl Champions 2001" tee-shirts and hats tomorrow? At least we’re left with that.