Brett Favre And His “Insufferable Midlife Crisis”

I admit to not liking Brett Favre.    Having worked in Sturgeon Bay, and knowing folks in the Green Bay media market,  I have heard stories that make me fully aware Brett Favre is not the type of guy who has values that mirror mine.   To be fair, most football players might fit that description. 

I really had no interest in the Green Bay Packers, so Favre’s hour of actually playing football on a Sunday was not important to me either.  Others around me were fascinated and in awe of this man who could throw and wow a stadium of people.   I just think lots of folks are easily amused.   But then these were some of the same people I met in Door County that still talked about the ‘Packer Glory Years’ as if it happened just a couple of years back.    I really did not understand it.  And to be honest, I still do not.

I do however think many of the people who were so enamored by this guy from Mississippi finally have come around, at least a bit, to seeing Favre the way I always did.  A drama queen, talented as far as being an athlete, shallow as a person, and really in need of professional therapy. His latest public display at ‘not knowing’ what he might do for the upcoming football season should put to rest any lingering doubts that it was best he exit Green Bay.  Now if only we could get him to leave the media limelight every summer.

When a plane landed in Mississippi with Viking players and other notables to carry Farve back to Minnesota last week I suspect many were about to vomit.  The worst part about all this was the media covered it, and there was no way for the vast majority of us not to read  or see it. 

So it was today in the newspaper that  a column appeared by the only sports writer I read (period) which made me laugh and know I am not alone when it comes to this ego-driven middle aged boy.  I am now in the majority, I strongly suspect, when it comes to sizing up Brett Favre.  And when that is done, Favre comes up lacking in so many ways.

I wonder what all the folks in Door County are saying about Brett Favre these days?

You try to summon the outrage. You chastise the Minnesota Vikings for enabling it all, for begging and sending a desperate plane carrying hirsute veterans to lure him back. One imagines a shirtless Mr. Favre lying on a daybed, eating a spit-roasted boar with his hands as linemen Jared Allen and Steve Hutchinson fan him with giant palm leaves and former Green Bay teammate Ryan Longwell outlines the Viking 401(k).

You rescind your respect, like the exasperated TV analysts Tedy Bruschi (“I’ve lost all respect for this team”) and Rod Woodson (“I’ve lost respect for Brett”). You ridicule ESPN and other news outlets for their purple siren “Favre Battlestations” coverage blanketing the QB with a fervor once reserved for moon landings and state funerals. Is a helicopter shot really necessary to see Mr. Favre walk from a plane to a car to a field?

Then he’s back. The news lands meekly, like a surprise party for a spouse tipped off by the strange cars in the driveway. He practices with his Vikings teammates and tells reporters he was swayed by the last-minute appeal. “Those guys are like, ‘Hey, if you could do us one favor. And it’s a pretty big favor.”

 This is where most are hurling.

Can we hope for a torn muscle of some sort that will not allow Favre to even contemplate a return for next season?  How pleasant summer would be without a single news story about Brett Favre!

As Jason Gay writes in his column, “Had Mr. Favre been leading actual vikings in the ninth century, it’s safe to assume they would have eaten him by now.”

I wonder what wine goes with divo?

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