The NFL Pro Bowl Games returned this year with a fresh twist, but not everyone is convinced the changes are enough to revive the event’s former glory. On Tuesday, February 4, 2026, the league’s annual all-star showcase unfolded at the Moscone Center in San Francisco, marking the first time the Pro Bowl became part of Super Bowl week festivities. While the city buzzed in anticipation of Sunday’s championship at Levi’s Stadium, football fans found themselves tuning in to a midweek exhibition that, for many, raised more questions than excitement.
Let’s set the scene: the Pro Bowl, once a staple of Sunday afternoons in Hawaii, has spent recent years searching for an identity. After bouncing between cities—Orlando, Las Vegas, Phoenix, Miami Gardens—the NFL landed in San Francisco, hoping a new venue and a revamped format might inject some life into the event. The 2026 edition was a 7-on-7 flag football affair, played on a condensed 50-yard field with 10-yard end zones. Gone were the bone-crunching tackles and high-stakes drama; in their place, a laid-back vibe, trick plays, and a clear emphasis on fun over ferocity.
Yet, for all the tweaks and star power on display, television ratings have continued to slide. Last year’s Pro Bowl averaged just 4.7 million viewers—a record low and an 18% drop from the previous year, marking the third straight decline. This year’s numbers aren’t in yet, but with the game airing on a Tuesday rather than its traditional Sunday slot, expectations were already tempered. As one fan-turned-critic put it, “I watched it because I have no life and I wanted to write a quick recap about how pointless it was and that I don’t understand why they tried to make it like the way that it is now.”
Still, the NFL pulled out all the stops in terms of production. The broadcast, led by Scott Van Pelt, Jason Kelce, and Dan Orlovsky, kicked off with “Postseason NFL Countdown” at 6:30 p.m. ET, featuring not just the Pro Bowl but the NFL FLAG High School Girls Showcase—a nod to flag football’s growing popularity, especially with its upcoming Olympic debut in 2028. Ebony Riley delivered a stirring rendition of the national anthem, while the Glide Ensemble and Oakland Interfaith Gospel Choir set the tone with “Lift Every Voice and Sing.”
The game itself? Well, it certainly had its moments, even if the stakes felt more backyard barbecue than big-league battle. The NFC outpaced the AFC in a high-scoring shootout, 66-52, with defense all but optional. “Both the NFC and the AFC did not try on defense at all,” one observer noted. The format, designed to minimize injuries and maximize showmanship, produced a flurry of touchdowns and highlight-reel plays. Joe Burrow, stepping in as one of the AFC’s replacement quarterbacks, pulled off a memorable trick play for a touchdown, delighting fans and reminding everyone that, at the very least, the Pro Bowl still knows how to have a little fun.
But not every storyline was a positive one. Shedeur Sanders, a rookie quarterback for the Cleveland Browns and surprise Pro Bowl selection, struggled under the bright lights, tossing two interceptions. Critics were quick to point out that Sanders “threw more interceptions in the regular season than he did touchdowns,” questioning the merit of some player selections. The process, which now involves voting by fans, players, and coaches, has led to a fair share of opt-outs and replacements—a trend exacerbated by the Super Bowl’s proximity and the league’s ever-expanding regular season.
Indeed, both starting quarterbacks, Josh Allen of the Buffalo Bills (AFC) and Matthew Stafford of the Los Angeles Rams (NFC), bowed out due to injuries. Their replacements—Burrow, Joe Flacco, and Sanders for the AFC; Jalen Hurts, Dak Prescott, and Jared Goff for the NFC—took the reins. Flacco, at 41, was the oldest Pro Bowler on the field, while rookies like Joe Alt and Cooper DeJean, both 22, represented the next generation. The NFC’s offensive firepower included Jalen Hurts, Dak Prescott, Jared Goff, and dynamic playmakers like CeeDee Lamb, George Pickens, Jahmyr Gibbs, and Christian McCaffrey. The AFC countered with Burrow’s Bengals teammates Ja’Marr Chase and Tee Higgins, as well as the NFL’s leading rusher, James Cook.
The sidelines, too, were star-studded. Legendary 49ers Steve Young and Jerry Rice swapped in as coaches, taking over from Eli and Peyton Manning. Young’s AFC squad also featured Michael Vick as offensive coordinator and Pat Surtain on defense, while Rice’s NFC team boasted DeSean Jackson and Tyrone Poole in the coaching ranks. It’s a who’s who of NFL history, but even their presence couldn’t mask the event’s underlying lack of intensity.
So, what’s the answer? Plenty of fans and pundits have ideas. “Move it back to Hawaii annually,” one commentator argued, recalling the event’s heyday at Aloha Stadium, where the 2010 Pro Bowl drew 12.3 million viewers—the most for any all-star game ever on cable television. Others want to see the return of classic skills competitions like the longest throw, which once captured imaginations in the late 1990s and early 2000s. And perhaps most crucially, there’s a call to tighten up the selection criteria: “Stop inviting players who don’t deserve to be in the Pro Bowl. It makes the honor less marketable when you add everyone and their mom to the team when they don’t deserve it.”
Meanwhile, the NFL continues to experiment. This year’s Pro Bowl was part of a broader weeklong celebration that also included celebrity flag games, such as Saturday night’s showdown between Team Druski and Team J. Balvin, featuring Michael Vick and Cam Newton. The league is clearly banking on entertainment value and star power to keep fans engaged, even as the product on the field drifts further from its roots as a true showcase of the sport’s best.
As the dust settles in San Francisco, one thing is clear: the Pro Bowl remains a work in progress. Whether it’s the format, the timing, or the talent, the NFL faces a tough challenge in recapturing the magic that once made the event must-see TV. For now, the conversation continues—about what the Pro Bowl is, what it could be, and whether it can ever matter again. Next year, maybe a return to tradition—or a bold new idea—will finally get fans cheering again.