From now on no one will be able to say that reggaeton does not excite. Whoever intends to vilify him would first have to see Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio, the Bad Bunny of the world, at halftime of the Super Bowl this Sunday, vindicating Latin America through reggaeton, dembow and pure sauce. Benito came out “in the green mountains inside”, surrounded by palm trees, reeds and banana trees.
In the heart of California, while those who do not speak English and smell of miscegenation and not “purity” and come from other lands are attacked, Bad Bunny sang and told in Spanish and with a Puerto Rican accent. It was a full-fledged show: the guy got us into trouble, especially with I should have taken more photosto tell stories not only through music, but also through visuals.
His last album was a before and after that united, in the midst of so much polarization, Latinos scattered around the world. And it united us around something that is sacred to many, wherever we live and whatever belief we profess: love of the land and one’s family. Bad Bunny, “benito” you are, has known how to tell it—excuse me—like no one else. It has internationalized Puerto Rico, which has internationalized Latin America, the music of the neighborhood, the mixture of the Caribbean, the rights of the poor, of those always marginalized and of those who are forced to leave the place where they were happy.
That’s why the 2026 Super Bowl was not just American football, it was also boxing, dominoes on a neighborhood street, slush (which was served by a Cuban, by the way), tacos, freshly brewed coffee and rum, of course. For the first time in history, the Super Bowl saw a gold and silver buyer on his land, guano hats and a mulatto stripping in a barbershop. But the most Latin thing, and many of us will agree on this, was the child asleep in the three chairs, with the innocence of childhood and those times that the one who left misses so much. Bad Bunny sang and told, I repeat, the history of a continent in thirteen minutes.
That’s also why Trump screamed, as expected. But no case. No one will be surprised if, behind the scenes, the orange has taken his forbidden steps – at the level of perreo, impossible – in the White House, even though he lacks seasoning, drums and reggaeton. He couldn’t resist seeing it.
What I’m saying: no one can say that reggaeton doesn’t excite and that dancing it with I should have taken more photos It is, especially in current times, an act of profound resistance. “Dance without fear, love without fear.”
Definitely, and this is said by someone who is not the biggest fan, Benito is something else. Latin America is something else. There are people who don’t know what it’s like to be with grandpa all day playing dominoes in the house. The same people who don’t know that the only thing stronger than hate is love. In the end it all lies in loving as much as you can, while you are alive. That’s what we should all aspire to. To that, since I wish ours would never have to move again.
It’s not hyperbole: the guy is being not only the voice, but the most loving and pure declaration and vindication of a continent. Against racism, xenophobia, abuses, blackouts and all kinds of supremacist power, Benito’s show was pure identity and defense of roots. He is singing for Puerto Rico, but also for Cuba and all of Latin America. And that is enough to know that he is making history.
Saint Benedict of the Super Bowl already said it. “We’re still here. Don’t let go of the flag, be careful.” How nice when I saw mine.
