In so many ways, this is a “Wow” moment for Favre and the Packers, particularly for coach Mike McCarthy and general manager Ted Thompson. I thought on the eve of the event, it would be proper to put the ceremony into some perspective.
Seven years ago next month, Favre and the Packers divorced, citing irreconcilable differences, and I had a front-row seat. Settle back. The story’s pretty interesting—and it’s a big reason why I find it amazing that after just seven years, Favre and the Packers can pledge their love for each other again.
I’ll never forget a few things about that spring and summer of 2008. When Favre announced his retirement in March, it stunned the world. The Packers wanted a decision from Favre in March on whether he’d play in 2008, and if that decision wasn’t forthcoming, they were giving the job to Aaron Rodgers, who’d sat and learned the job behind Favre for three years. Favre wasn’t ready to commit, so he retired.
A couple of months later, I was washing my dog in my New Jersey driveway (true story) when my cell rang. It was Favre. I put down the soap and hose and talked to him. He said he was having second thoughts. Lots of them. He said he still wanted to play. He said he was thinking of asking for his release so he could play somewhere else. Chicago or Minnesota, maybe. I told him I didn’t think the Packers would release him so he could torment them from within the division. I remember saying to him that day he should think about all the kids with Brett Favre posters on their walls; they’d be heartbroken if he ever walked into Lambeau as a Bear or Viking. At the time, he wanted to keep his ruminations quiet, because he was still thinking about what to do.
July. Almost time for training camp. Now news broke that Favre, 38, still wanted to play, and he was going to try to force the Packers to release him so he could play elsewhere. I talked to Thompson, and he was adamant that the Packers would not let Favre go. They might consider trading him, but a release? No way.
On the Saturday before the Packers were due at training camp, I visited Favre at his home outside Hattiesburg, Miss. He and wife Deanna were there, and agent Bus Cook. We went to dinner with some relatives, then back to the house on his 465-acre spread. That day, Thompson asked Favre for a list of teams he’d agree to be traded to. Favre wouldn’t give him one. If Favre couldn’t go to Minnesota or Chicago, his preference was to force Thompson’s hand, and come back to play quarterback for the Packers. For Thompson, that was a non-starter.
Cook’s stance was the Packers would likely back down if Favre pressed his case to be released. I said I didn’t think Thompson would release him under any circumstances. I hadn’t seen Favre agonize over many decisions in his life, but he sure was on this late night sitting around the polished marble kitchen counter.
“I don’t know what I’ll do,’’ he said, massaging his ever-present stubbly beard. Then he bled a little bit, verbally.
“It’s strange to think I’ll never play for the Packers again. Does it hurt? Hurt’s not quite it. To see those fans I love cheer for another quarterback … That’s the way it goes, but it’ll be hard. Maybe I won’t play. If I don’t, I’ve had 17 great years in the NFL. Loved every minute of it. Loved playing in Green Bay.”
“You’re a football player,” Deanna said pointedly. “You need to play football.”
Favre had a couple of realistic options. Commissioner Roger Goodell told him if he sat for a while, maybe a team that got a quarterback injury would reach out to acquire him. True, but not something Favre wanted. Or he could agree to go to Tampa Bay or the Jets; both teams had been granted permission to talk to Cook and Favre in hopes they could convince Favre to get interested in playing for them.
But Favre wanted to play for the Vikings, or possibly the Bears. Both needed passers. Next option: the Packers.
Two or three times that night, well into the evening, I told him Thompson wouldn’t bend. The GM would get killed in Wisconsin if he handed Brett Favre to an arch rival. Favre knew, but he had trouble accepting.
“Ted told me, ‘Aaron’s our starter,’” Favre said at one point. “I asked if I could compete for the job. He said, ‘That is not an option.’ He said, ‘Coming up there obviously is not good. Things have changed. We’ve moved on.’ He basically said, ‘You’re not going to play here.’”
I flew to Green Bay the next day. Thompson reiterated there’d be no release. Favre, that night, texted me thusly: “Tell Ted to release me.” I don’t recall what I said, but it was something like, Not happening.
Two days later, I’d arrived in Charlotte to cover the Panthers at camp the next day. I’m a minor-league baseball fan, so I was in the stands to see the Kannapolis (N.C.) Intimidators when my phone rang. It was Jets GM Mike Tannenbaum. How can we sell our program to Brett? That’s what Tannenbaum wanted to know. I thought now that he had permission to talk to Favre, he should go to Hattiesburg and try to make his case. I’d have told someone from the Bucs the same thing had they called. Tannenbaum did make the trip, and he must have been persuasive. A few days later, he made a deal for Favre, and Favre played one year for the Jets. He played 2009 and ’10 for the Vikings, of course. The Vikes went 2-2 against the Packers, with Favre splitting a pair at Lambeau. And then it was over.
Now the ugliness, the hard feelings … poof. I don’t know why—but it seems it should have taken longer than seven years for the healing to happen. But good for all sides it didn’t.
One last thing. Remember when Jerry Rice was trying to keep his career going forever? I saw him in camp with the Broncos in 2005, at 42, trying to stick as a backup wideout. And I saw a free-agent cornerback from Bowling Green (I don’t recall the name) playing him straight-up in man coverage. Jerry Rice is ruining his legacy! Or so the talk went that summer.
But it didn’t. That, too, passed. As did the Favre bitterness in 2008.
This is what Favre said just before we parted that July Saturday in Mississippi:
“If this doesn’t work out, there’s no way to duplicate the relationship I have with the fans. When Bart Starr was fired by the Packers as coach, it was rough, but look now. He’s much bigger than that. He’s Bart Starr. Fans forgot the firing. Whatever happens, that will never have an effect on my love for the team or the fans. This is the ugliness of business. I understand.”
Nothing will feel ugly Saturday night. Good for Favre, and good for the Packers, and good for the fans who loved him.