Sixty Super Bowls: The Last Pilgrimage | Analysis by Brian Moineau

Sixty Sundays: The friends who’ve never missed a Super Bowl

From $8 seats to $8,000 trips, the Super Bowl has changed almost as much as the men who’ve watched every single one. This year Don Crisman, Gregory Eaton and Tom Henschel — three friends in their 80s — made the pilgrimage again, closing a chapter that began on January 15, 1967. For two of them, this pilgrimage may be the last.

A hook: why this story matters beyond football

There’s something quietly heroic about a ritual kept for six decades: it’s not just about touchdowns or halftime shows, it’s about continuity in a world that keeps speeding up. These men are living archives of the event that became America’s unofficial holiday. Their story asks a simple question: what do we owe our rituals — and to whom?

What happened this year

  • Don Crisman (Maine), Gregory Eaton (Michigan) and Tom Henschel (Florida) attended Super Bowl LX, preserving a streak that began with the very first AFL-NFL World Championship Game in 1967.
  • Crisman, nearly 90, and Henschel, 84 and recovering from a stroke, said this year will likely be their last trip. Eaton, 86, plans to go as long as he can.
  • The trio — once part of a larger “never missed” club that included media members and staff — are now essentially the living end of an era, having scaled back travel from weeklong stays to short trips focused only on the game. (apnews.com)

A little context: how the Super Bowl and fandom evolved

  • The first two championship games were called the AFL-NFL World Championship Game; “Super Bowl” became the common name almost by accident and then by marketing success.
  • Early Super Bowls felt different: cheaper tickets, smaller media machines, less corporate spectacle. Henschel remembers paying $12 for a ticket in 1969. Today, attending the game — travel, lodging, ticket markups — can run into the thousands. (apnews.com)
  • Over 60 editions, the Super Bowl transformed from a championship to a cultural event: halftime megashows, global advertising, and multi-day corporate campus takeovers around host cities.

Why their streak is about more than numbers

  • Ritual and friendship: The three men speak less about specific plays and more about the habit of showing up together. Their annual meetups, brunches and shared travels turned a sporting event into a social anchor.
  • Memory and changing America: Through their eyes you can trace social shifts — from stadium integration and the first Black winning quarterback to the commercialization of sports.
  • The cost of dedication: Their scaling back — shorter stays, tighter budgets — mirrors how the Super Bowl itself has become more expensive and logistically challenging. For them, the decision to continue is a personal calculus of mobility, finances, and how much the ritual still feeds their joy. (washingtonpost.com)

What this says about fandom and aging

  • Traditions adapt. Where once they’d spend a week soaking in the host city, now it’s three or four days and mostly the game. That’s not resignation — it’s pragmatism.
  • The emotional weight of a final trip: Saying “this might be my last” reframes the game as a milestone rather than an event. It’s the closing of a long-running story that others helped write.
  • Public memory vs. private ritual: The Super Bowl is public spectacle; their streak is private devotion made public. It reminds us that the biggest cultural events are made meaningful by countless small, consistent acts of attendance and attention.

Takeaways for readers

  • Small rituals accumulate into identity: attending once is memorable; attending 60 times becomes a life’s thread.
  • Cultural institutions age with us: as the NFL and its marquee event get bigger and pricier, the people who built the memory bank adapt — or fade away.
  • There’s dignity in ending things on your own terms: both Crisman and Henschel acknowledge limits and choose a graceful exit rather than forcing the habit beyond its meaningfulness. (apnews.com)

My take

The story of Crisman, Eaton and Henschel reads like a human-scale novel about time: the highs, the losses, the friendships that outlast careers and changing cities. Sports often give us a truncated narrative — winners and losers — but this trio shows the richer arc: persistence, memory, and the quiet decision to step back when the ritual stops serving who you are. It’s easy to romanticize “never missed” streaks, but the more interesting, humane moment is watching people choose how to end them.

Sources

(Links were checked on February 7, 2026.)




Related update: We recently published an article that expands on this topic: read the latest post.


Related update: We recently published an article that expands on this topic: read the latest post.