The Truth About Tantruming Travis Kelce's Ugly Sideline Fight… The Hottest Quarterback… Best Commercial… And Worst Halftime Show Ever – All Capped Off With A Sloppy Swift Hug! KENNEDY has the only Super Bowl game coverage you REALLY need

Taylor Swift won the Super Bowl and ended it with a sloppy kiss!

Oh no, wait… Patrick Mahomes won Super Bowl 58, but I'm sure Taylor's caffeinated fans and Joe Biden's desperate White House will give her all the credit for the Kansas City Chiefs' win against the 49ers.

It was a true yawn-a-thon that culminated in a nerve-wracking overtimer and Peppy Patrick gambled big and defeated the on-paper better team in sunny Vegas.

Enjoy confetti-drenched hugs, steroid Travis Kelce heaving the Vince Lombardi shouting “Viva Las Vegas” and super sexy Brock Purdy crying into his jockstrap.

It all almost got out of hand for the slow-starting Chiefs when Tantruming Travis ran like a hulk and shoved his 65-year-old coach Andy Reid.

Note to Mr. Kelce: As a 34-year-old soon-to-retire, you know better than to attack the coach who benched you apparently because your tight end wasn't that tight. Boo hoo, big ham.

In fact, the 49ers spent the first half so busy scoring and embarrassing Calamity Kelce that Taylor probably wondered if her carbon-belching grace back from Tokyo had been worth it after all.

Besides, whatever drink they pumped into her on that long flight needs to be taken straight to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Was it the billions? Was it a glam team in flight? She looked impossibly well-rested and smoking hot in her $720 corset and schoolgirl bangs.

In fact, it was an evening of unbridled WAG-a-licious delight in the C-Suite. Blake Lively cosplays as a teen cheerleader, Brittany 'Spears' Mahomes pressed in red latex, Ice Spice… her bob still styles in a ridiculous Cheetos glow.

Camera-shy hugs, puffing matches and noticeably tight midriffs. I think we all need to shake off a Taylor hangover today!

Speaking of shaky, Usher rolled out on his roller skates and put on one of the worst halftime shows ever.

As he stumbled over his “hits” (don't ask me to name them) and wobbled his parts, he sweated like Whitney Houston in a heat wave (side note: sorry Reba McEntire, but your timid anthem was not worthy of Whitney).

Not even a sudden strip show could save this moment of peace. Neither could Alicia Keys, who parachuted in from Hamas headquarters in her ruby-encrusted jumpsuit to deliver more hobo notes.

The skates, that gruesome, blinding chest plate with fake abs, the sheer lack of melody…all a big Not Xanadone for my money.

When the cameras weren't on Team Tay, some mild relief came in the form of every hackneyed Hollywood type lining up to ogle and jeer in a parade of commercials for the cast.

There was the plague of the Wicked movie trailer…. bouncing Beyoncé's Verizon country album drop… and Ben Affleck-Lopez looking happier than ever while dancing in front of his Dunkin' millions — even if his annoying wife was shamelessly flirting with Tom Brady.

From Victoria B to Jennifer A and Addison Rae, the complete alphabet overview of the A to Z list was covered.

But my favorite was an irritated Christopher Walken having to endure a barrage of Christopher Walken impressions that made me want to go buy a BMW. (Michael Cera who sells CeraVe moisturizer also gets a special mention.)

When they weren't on screen, they were in the stands: Jay and Bey, Crazy Kanye and the Kardashian clan, Gaga decked out in kitty eye sparklers, Jon Hamm and ham-head Justin Bieber.

Normal people get tired of ubiquitous humans making everything on earth about themselves (sorry, Taylor) – so thank goodness the slow-crawling Chiefs found their mojo and started the second half.

When things got tense, Taylor covered up and bit her nails – but a saved Chiefs equalizer in the last three seconds (you know how to keep a girl waiting, guys!) took us to the glory of overtime.

In the end, it all came down to a coin toss cocktail, as bumbling 49ers head coach Kyle Shanahan elected to receive the ball, giving Macho Mahomes the rocket fuel he needed to prove he's the Joan Collins of this football dynasty .

If it weren't for Mahomes' virile sprints and dodges to cover more yards than his teammates combined — and no thanks to Testy Travis — San Francisco might have maintained their early double-digit lead.

This down-to-earth quarterback, six years Kelce's junior and a doting young father, could teach Mr. Taylor Swift a thing or two.

Now all Taylor has to do is get Travis on a sore bent knee and offer up some matching finger hardware to match her #87 diamond pendant. After all, she doesn't want J-Lo to get him!