Blades of Glory: Not All Grass Is Created Equal

It grew for over a year on secret membranes with special ingredients and high-tech tools, never knowing whether it would get the chance to live up to its full potential. Finally, Field No. 2 is ready for the big stage at Super Bowl 50. Question is, can it withstand the weight of the game?

- Tommy Tomlinson

A REMOTE PIECE OF FARMLAND east of San Francisco, sometime in the fall. The buyer arrives to inspect the product. The farmers have tended to it for months, keeping it warm under grow blankets, dry under tarps, its very existence under wraps. The farmers have leverage; few places grow product of this quality. The buyer has leverage; he can hold out for the best.

The buyer takes the product in his hands. He rubs it with his fingers. He inhales deeply, taking in the aroma. He pinches off a bit and tastes it, to judge the quality and texture.

Around the first of December, the phone rings at the farm. The buyer is on the line. The deal is made. The discussion turns to delivery—to Levi’s Stadium.

You’ve probably never thought about the turf at the Super Bowl, which means the people who grow and tend to the turf at the Super Bowl have done their jobs. Turf is big business, and the stakes are high.

Imagine what would happen if a running back, rounding the corner for the winning touchdown in America’s biggest game, planted his foot to cut and hit nothing but loose dirt. Imagine if he tore an Achilles as he fell. Imagine the kilotons of outrage detonated in that moment. Imagine millions of dollars in bets swinging on a single crappy patch of grass. The field is important to football the way a microphone is important to Adele. You don’t notice it if it works. It can ruin everything if it doesn’t.