When the National Football League announced Puerto Rican superstar Bad Bunny as the headliner for Super Bowl LX’s halftime show, few could have predicted the cultural tempest that would follow. The decision, revealed in early October 2025, has unleashed a torrent of debate—not just about musical tastes, but about identity, inclusion, and what it means to represent America on one of the world’s biggest stages. The controversy has drawn in politicians, sports legends, and activists, all staking a claim in a conversation that’s about far more than a fifteen-minute performance.
At the center of the uproar is House Speaker Mike Johnson, who on October 7 told reporters, “I didn’t even know who Bad Bunny was. But it sounds like a terrible decision, in my view, from what I’m hearing.” According to NewsOne and other outlets, Johnson argued that the halftime show should appeal to a “broader audience,” emphasizing the event’s reach to “a lot of young and impressionable children.” Instead of Bad Bunny, Johnson suggested that country singer Lee Greenwood—famous for his anthem “God Bless the U.S.A.”—would be a more suitable choice. Greenwood, at 82, has long been embraced by conservative circles as a symbol of patriotism.
Johnson’s remarks are just the latest in a pattern of politicians appearing out of touch with contemporary culture. As NewsOne and The Tennessean point out, Bad Bunny is hardly an obscure figure: he has shattered streaming records, collected major music awards, and sold over 115 million records worldwide. His influence, particularly among Latinx communities, is undeniable. Yet, for some in power, his star power is either invisible or, perhaps more tellingly, unwelcome.
The backlash was swift. Critics called out Johnson’s lack of familiarity with one of the globe’s most prominent musicians. One fan, quoted by NewsOne, argued, “The NFL & Super Bowl isn’t for the world, though, it’s for America. Just 14% of NFL viewers are Hispanic. It’s a bad choice, both in a business sense and culturally.” Another asked, “What if I told you that youth aren’t the primary consumer marketing demographic for the Super Bowl and that as a business decision it’s bizarre? This is regardless of whether or not Bad Bunny is a talented artist and regardless of if he’s popular in certain age ranges.”
But for many, the debate goes deeper than demographics or even musical preference. As The Tennessean observes, objections to Bad Bunny’s selection often hinge on his identity, the predominance of Spanish in his music, and his outspoken criticism of U.S. immigration policy. NFL Hall of Famer Eric Dickerson, for example, told TMZ that Bad Bunny should “keep his ass where he’s at” if he doesn’t like the United States. When reminded that Bad Bunny was born in Puerto Rico—a U.S. territory—Dickerson replied, “I know Puerto Rico is part of the U.S. But, it’s not the U.S. That’s the way I look at it. That’s the way I feel.”
This sentiment, the article notes, “says the quiet part out loud,” exposing the underlying discomfort some have with an artist who doesn’t “look American,” doesn’t “exemplify what I value,” or doesn’t “resemble what American football is all about.” The fact that most of Bad Bunny’s songs are in Spanish and that he has criticized U.S. policy—he reportedly avoided hosting concerts in America out of fear his fans might be targeted by ICE—only intensifies the sense among detractors that he doesn’t belong on such a quintessentially American stage.
Yet, as The Tennessean’s Tacuma R. Roeback reminds readers, “Love it or not, Bad Bunny, his fans and folks like him are a part of our national fabric.” The NFL, the world’s most profitable sports league, is looking to expand its footprint, and artists like Bad Bunny are the future of the sport, not just in America but globally. Roeback points out that cultural tastes change, and what was once mainstream inevitably gives way to new voices and faces. “There will come a time when business, advertisers and culture will no longer cater to your tastes and preferences. It’s a hard lesson we all face, even those in positions of power.”
For those who can’t stomach Bad Bunny’s upcoming performance, Turning Point USA—a right-wing organization founded by Charlie Kirk—is offering an alternative. The group is planning an “All-American Halftime Show” to air on February 8, 2026, the same night as the Super Bowl. According to NewsOne, the event will celebrate “faith, family and freedom” and is soliciting public input on which music genres should be featured, with options like “Anything in English,” Americana, classic rock, country, Hip Hop, pop, and “worship.” The lineup remains unannounced, but speculation runs rampant: Kid Rock, Ted Nugent, MAGA rapper Forgiato Blow, Jason Aldean, and Lee Greenwood are all floated as likely candidates. There’s even a tongue-in-cheek nod to Kanye West as a possible performer.
Turning Point’s effort is a direct response to what organizers and supporters view as a cultural affront. The idea is to provide a space for those who feel alienated by the NFL’s choice—a sort of parallel universe halftime show for those who want to “take back” American culture. But as The Tennessean notes, “if you object to Bad Bunny and what he’s all about, that’s cool too.” The author suggests that critics can simply “mute the TV, wash the dishes or tune it to Turning Point USA’s recently announced ‘The All-American Halftime Show.’”
Underlying all this is a broader struggle over who gets to define American identity and who is allowed to take center stage. Bad Bunny, his supporters argue, represents a changing America—one that is more diverse, more global, and more willing to embrace difference. His critics, meanwhile, see his selection as a rejection of traditional values and a sign of cultural decline. The conflict is as much about power and belonging as it is about music.
For the millions who will tune in on Super Bowl Sunday, the debate may be a distant echo—just background noise to the spectacle of football and pop stardom. But for those invested in the outcome, the halftime show is a litmus test for the nation’s evolving sense of self. As Roeback concludes, “the world I once knew is a lot bigger and varied in 2025, containing people and elements I can learn about and accept. And if it’s not on Super Bowl night, that’s fine too.”