Babe Ruth happened here.
Twenty-seven Yankees championships happened here.
Sinatra happened here.
Chesley Sullenberger happened here.
The ball drop on New Year’s Eve happens here.
Trump happens here.
Letterman happens here.
Everything big happens here.
Finally, the Super Bowl happens here, Super Bowl XLVIII in 2014, and you can’t spell justice without the i the c and the e.
The NFL owners got it right yesterday in Dallas when they awarded the biggest game to the biggest and best stage in the world.
“To me it’s a no-brainer,” said Jets coach Rex Ryan, who expects to be gunning for his fourth consecutive championship by then.
It’ll be a cold-weather Super Bowl and a cold-weather Mardi Gras, all wrapped into one. That part of corporate America that’ll bemoan not being able to play golf all week will get over it.
“That’s the thing that kinda blew me away when I became [Giants] head coach in New York, is how many things there are to do in New York City,” longtime NFLer Dan Reeves told The Post yesterday. “I was not a theater person but I became one. There are so many great restaurants there.”
We never really cared weather or not the wimpy killjoys and fear-monger naysayers favored the idea of a Supe BRRR Bowl. They have officially been frozen out of the conversation.
We’ll embrace this opportunity to turn this into an historic event that will be as memorable as anything you have seen on NFL Films. That’s why you saw and heard the cheers in Times Square yesterday when NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell announced New York/New Jersey as the winner over Tampa.
Ice Bowl II would be fine with us.
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
New York can handle anything Old Man Winter and Mother Nature throw at us.
“I hope it snows,” Jets owner Woody Johnson said yesterday.
Hell, I sat in the upper deck of bone-chilled Shea Stadium the day Brrrrrroadway Joe Namath and the Jets beat the Raiders to advance to Super Bowl III — and I survived.
“It’s long overdue being in New York,” said an old football Giants champion named Frank Gifford, who played in “The Greatest Game Ever Played,” Colts 23, Giants 17 in overtime at Yankee Stadium, Dec. 28, 1958.
“The greatest city in the country, one of the places where professional football grew up. New York is such a part of the heritage and the history of the game. Forget the weather — both teams have to play in the same weather. That’s just another challenge.”
Reeves, a part of 39 NFL seasons, played on the losing side in the Ice Bowl on the frozen tundra of Green Bay’s legendary Lambeau Field. “I think it’s great New York got it,” Reeves said. “And this is a game that’s supposed to be played outdoors.”
So kudos to Woody Johnson, and the Sons (Giants co-owner Steve Tisch and bid co-chairman Jonathan Tisch and John Mara) of Sons of New York (Bob Tisch and Wellington Mara) for joining hands to make this happen.
Showtime. Or Snowtime. Our time.