In this imagined world, history is rewritten in spectacular fashion.
The ABBA — four voices that reshaped global pop music — are announced as the new Halftime Show performers for the Super Bowl 2026, replacing Bad Bunny as the opening act.
If it were real, the decision would instantly become one of the most talked-about pivots in Super Bowl history.
In this alternate scenario, league executives don’t chase volume or viral shock. Instead, they choose legacy — betting that songs which have survived five decades can still command the biggest stage in the world.
ABBA’s halftime show, as imagined, would not be built on chaos.
It would be built on precision.
Massive visuals. Clean lines. Harmonies that cut through a stadium of 70,000 and reach hundreds of millions watching worldwide. Rather than a frantic medley, the performance would unfold like a timeline — each song a chapter in a story audiences already know by heart.
The opening notes alone would silence the stadium.
Not because the crowd is confused — but because they recognize what’s happening.
In this fictional handoff, replacing Bad Bunny is not framed as rejection of modern music, but as a symbolic pause — a moment where contemporary dominance steps aside to acknowledge the foundation beneath it. A reminder that today’s global pop economy exists because artists like ABBA proved music could cross borders, languages, and generations.
Commentators in this imagined world would call it a gamble.
And then call it genius.
Because ABBA’s music doesn’t belong to a decade. It belongs to memory. To weddings, living rooms, heartbreaks, and celebrations across continents. Their songs don’t need reintroduction. They arrive already lived with.
Under Super Bowl lights, that matters.
In this alternate universe, the halftime show doesn’t get louder.
It gets clearer.
Four voices.
One field.
And a global audience reminded that the greatest songs don’t age out of relevance.
They wait.
And when the world is quiet enough to listen again — they take the stage.