~Music

Bad Bunny Spiked the Football. Trump Lost His Mind.

Bruiser

11 Feb 2026 — 5 min read

Photo by Karina Carvalho (unsplash), Edited/Rendered by gpt-image-1

The NFL wanted sixty years of Super Bowl glory celebrated. What they got was a full-throated reminder that rock and roll and reggaeton don't bow to corporate pageantry. On February 8th, 2026, at Levi's Stadium, Green Day opened the 60th Super Bowl with what was supposed to be a soundtrack for parading MVPs. Then Bad Bunny took halftime and turned it into a civics lesson that sent the President into a Truth Social meltdown.

The timing couldn't have landed sharper. The day before, a pro-billionaire march had limped through San Francisco's streets. The Chronicle counted three dozen attendees, plus another dozen counter-protesters mocking the whole affair. Late-stage capitalism's fever dream made flesh: people marching to defend billionaires, as if the ultra-wealthy needed grassroots protection.

Then came Sunday. The NFL's crown jewel. Green Day was meant to be background music, aging punks trotted out to add edge without threat.

But real punk rock doesn't domesticate.

The East Bay Three Show Up Swinging

Green Day kicked off at 5 PM CST, tearing through "Holiday," "Boulevard of Broken Dreams," and "American Idiot." The stadium crowd heard frontman Billie Joe Armstrong sing the original lyrics, "subliminal mindf**k America", drawing loud cheers from the live audience, including former MVPs on stage. NBC censored the expletive for the broadcast, muting it for tens of millions watching at home.

Armstrong sang it anyway. The fans in the building heard every word.

That moment crystallized something important. You can broadcast the spectacle, but you can't control the music. You can mute the word, but you can't mute the message.

Then Bad Bunny Schooled the President

Green Day's set was the appetizer. The main course came at halftime, when Bad Bunny delivered the first Super Bowl halftime show performed almost entirely in Spanish.

The setup was already volatile. A week earlier at the Grammys, Bad Bunny had collected three trophies, including Album of the Year for Debí Tirar Más Fotos, the first Spanish-language album to claim the Recording Academy's top prize. He opened his acceptance speech with two words: "ICE out."

"We're not savage, we're not animals, we're not aliens," he told the Grammy crowd. "We are humans, and we are Americans."

Trump called the Grammys "virtually unwatchable." But he watched the Super Bowl.

For 13 minutes, Bad Bunny turned Levi's Stadium into a Puerto Rican block party. He emerged from a sugar cane field recreation, surrounded by workers wearing pavas. Lady Gaga showed up for a salsa-inspired "Die With a Smile." Ricky Martin joined for "LO QUE LE PASÓ A HAWAii." The stage design included exploding power grids, a nod to Puerto Rico's ongoing blackouts since Hurricane Maria wrecked the island in 2017.

Then the finale. Bad Bunny listed every country in the Americas, Chile to Argentina to Brazil to Mexico to Canada, while performers carried flags behind him. He spiked a football inscribed "Together We Are America." The jumbotron displayed his Grammy message: "The only thing more powerful than hate is love."

The only English words he spoke? "God bless America."

Trump Detonates

Within minutes, Trump hit Truth Social with the fury of a man watching his nightmare unfold.

"The Super Bowl Halftime Show is absolutely terrible, one of the worst, EVER!" he wrote. "Nobody understands a word this guy is saying, and the dancing is disgusting, especially for young children."

He called it "a 'slap in the face' to our Country", then pivoted to bragging about the stock market.

Here was the President raging because a Puerto Rican artist performed in Spanish. Puerto Rico, a U.S. territory whose residents have been American citizens since 1917. The island Trump once visited after Hurricane Maria and tossed paper towels at survivors like he was shooting free throws.

Bad Bunny didn't mention Trump by name. He didn't need to. The flags, the jumbotron, the spiked football, all served as quiet, devastating rebuke. The conservative counter-programming, featuring Kid Rock at Turning Point USA's "All-American Halftime Show," looked exactly as sad as you'd expect.

What They Never Understand

The contrast with that pathetic billionaire march writes itself. Three dozen bodies stumbling through San Francisco to celebrate wealth inequality. Meanwhile, Green Day and Bad Bunny, one a trio from the East Bay who started in dive bars, the other a kid from Vega Baja who refused to tour the mainland U.S. because "f**king ICE could be outside", commanded the attention of an entire country.

That's the difference between authentic culture and astroturfed nonsense. One comes from the streets, from garages, from kids with nothing to lose. The other comes from boardrooms, desperately trying to convince regular people that their interests align with the ultra-rich.

The NFL thought they'd booked safe nostalgia. Green Day, around since the late '80s. Bad Bunny, the most-streamed artist in the world. Surely they'd play nice for the 60th anniversary.

But you don't survive as a punk band for four decades by selling out when it matters. You don't become the first Latino to headline a Super Bowl solo by backing down from who you are. You survive by remembering why you picked up a guitar or microphone. You survive by staying angry at the right things.

The irony is that Green Day's opening and Bad Bunny's halftime will be remembered long after people forget the Seahawks beat the Patriots. These performances reminded us that entertainment can be more than distraction. It can be confrontation. It can be truth-telling. It can be a middle finger to power, broadcast live to millions.

The pro-billionaire marchers wanted to celebrate wealth. Green Day and Bad Bunny celebrated something more valuable: the enduring power of giving a damn. In a world that feels like it's accepted inequality and ICE raids as inevitable, they stood on those stages and said no.

That's why punk still matters. That's why Bad Bunny still matters. In the most mainstream arena imaginable, they proved that authentic music, music with something to say, music that refuses to behave, still packs a punch.

The suits can book the bands. They can't control the message.

References

Models used: gpt-4.1, claude-opus-4-1-20250805, claude-sonnet-4-20250514, gpt-image-1

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