In the past four years, Favre has transformed himself from a plain-speaking, regular guy with a passion for the game into a selfish, self-absorbed, prima-donna. I feel betrayed, bamboozled, hoodwinked!
Four years seem like a long time? It started prior to the 2005 season. Javon Walker holds out. Favre tells him to honor his contract. Right on Favre! Then the season starts. Javon blows out his ACL. Tough break - s*!t happens. We have our worst season in years. Now, mind you, losing seasons suck, but they also show the true measure of a competitor. I didn't miss a game that year, and let me tell you, Favre didn't give two craps by the end of the season. He just closd his eyes and hucked that ball up for grabs. "Just a gunslinger", you say? No. He gave up. I lost a lot of respect for him that year. "Yeah, but they were so bad, why bother." Why? Pride.
Anyone remember former Packer, Don Beebe, before when he played for Buffalo? The Cowboys were blowing them out in the Super Bowl and Leon Lett was returning a fumble for an easy TD. Beebe came running from the other end of the field and stripped him of the ball right before crossing the goalline. That's pride. Didn't matter that the game was over - he did everything he could on that play. Favre could learn a thing or two from that.
Moving on.
2006, we go 8-8. McCarthy's first year. He has the gumption to tell Favre to not huck the ball down field and play it underneath. Favre contemplates retirement (I'm uncertain when he first did so, but I believe it started even before 2005 - but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and say this is the first time). We finish the season by beating the Bears (Rex Grossman's infamous "I didn't care" game). Mariucci is commenting on the game and he and Favre have a tearful exchange at the end because this might be the last game for Favre. For real!
Now comes the offseason and Favre must have his time to think. The organization suspends their plans to see what the mighty Favre has to say. He didn't see his shadow! He's back for another year!
2007 - Favre actually puts effort into his job again. He trains in the offseason. He attends (a few) minicamps. He's on board. And what do you know - we go 13-3. We even make it all the way to the championship game! Only an errant interception (I'll get to those later) keeps us from getting to the Super Bowl. So close! We can do it next year.
Then the offseason the unthinkable happens. Favre OFFICIALLY retires. FOR REAL! Tearful press conference and all. Well, let me tell you folks, I was P-I-S-S-E-D PISSED! Retire now?! We came so close! Just give us one more year - you can do it! No? Alright then, the Rodgers era begins.
So the Packers plan the new direction for 2008. Rodgers is the new face of the franchise. Then...Favre unretires. Okay...this is awkward.... Hey, you want to return, then return. Understand, though, that by retiring you relinquished your spot as #1 QB. You want to start, come back, compete, and earn it. That hurt his feelings. Then he wants a trade - to the VIKINGS nonetheless. Instead, we deal him to the Jets, include a little poison pill. We move on all the while listening to the Ted Thompson haters and Favrers whine and moan after every loss. Season ends, Favre retires. The end....
Then that bastard unretires again! And signs with....the VIKINGS! He skipped all their minicamps and training camp because he was so torn over the thought of coming back. It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to skip camp at all (sarcasm intended). Chilly even picks him up from the airport. I'm surprised any member of the Vikings organization could breathe with how hard they were all [strike]fellating[/strike] acquiescing to Favre. Makes me want to puke.
Now, 2009 - Favre is a Viking. They can have him. He's dead to me. I can no longer withstand the grief he has put me through. The countless interceptions. His playoff meltdowns. Those I could withstand because I thought he was who he said he was. But then he revealed his true self. He's a hypocrite. Just a regular guy who loves the game. Bulls*!t. Had he really loved the game, he'd play for whomever, wherever, whenever, whether he's a starter, 2nd string, or goddamn towel boy. Give until there's nothing left. That's love of the game! He could have played another 10 years and been terrible and I would have loved him for it just as long as he gave it his all.
Come Monday, I want to see him dead and buried at the Metrodome. You can even plant that damned Viking horn next to him. No mercy.
No mercy.