1. 2 years ago 

   Another Line in the Favre Monday Night Football Resume

   You can love him or hate him, but you sure as hell can’t ignore him.

   Brett Favre added another floor to the skyscraper that is his MNF Legacy tonight, much to the chagrin of myself and other countless millions of Packer fans (as well as those just sick of hearing about the soap opera altogether).  And I must say, as much as it completely turned me inside out to watch him do that to our admittedly decimated defense, I kind of enjoyed it, or rather, didn’t totally hate it.

   I still wear my #4 Green Bay Packers jersey.  I wear it with pride.  Brett Favre head manned my favorite NFL team for 16 years, didn’t miss a game, and, oh yeah, put the “Title” back in “Titletown”.  He was filled with heart, passion, more talent than has passed through the same position in Chicago in the past 20+ years combined, and a spirit of gamesmanship that is unparalelled.  These things, I will never forget.  Ever.

   But then it came time for a decision as far as his future with the Packers was concerned.  And there was waffling, wavering, vacillating (I’ve got more synonyms, but I’ll spare you the verbosity)…  And it killed me to watch it.  I wanted him back.  Now, my desires were most likely a by-product of several things, including an unadulterated love of watching him chuck the rock all over the place.

   If I must wear a label, I guess I would be considered a “Brett Favre Apologist”.  But I kind of find it hard to believe that one of the best quarterbacks to strap a helmet on has to be “apologized” for.  I’m not going to rehash the stats from the Monday Night game against the Raiders after his father passed, or the countless (COUNTLESS) 4th quarter comeback drives he engineered, or the absolutely stupifying consecutive games-played streak…you get the picture.

   I guess what I’m saying in a “going around the block to wind up next door” kind of way is, I, nor anyone else on this earth short of Deanna Favre has the right to tell him he can’t play.  Don’t get me wrong, I was less than pleased to see Favre #4 in NY Jets Hunter Green, and am absolutely suicidal to see it in Viqueen Purple.  But farbeit for me to tell someone, especially someone who’s one of the best at his craft that he can no longer do what he loves.

   At the risk of sounding like John Madden, I guess that what it comes down to, is the fact that ultimately, #4 is out there because he loves to play the game (which is not too hard to believe when you witness performances like tonight’s game).  While it completely sucked that he did it against the Pack, watching a man 5 days shy of 40 years old just pick apart the secondary with eagle-eye precision was pretty fascinating for this sports fan.

   This will probably not ingratiate me with the rest of my Packer fan friends (or my Bear fan friends for that matter), I’m not ashamed.  I love to watch great athletes, and am proud to say that I can acknowledge greatness in spite of my own personal team affiliations.  Case in point: Chris Chelios.  My favorite NHL player of all time, and I got to know and love him after he came from Les Habitantes to my Blackhawks.  He has since made a shorter geographical trip northeast to the team whose name I dare not speak, and yet, he remains my favorite.  Granted, he did let me drink from the Stanley Cup, but my opinion was formed much before that.

   So I’m sure I’m going to get flamed for this, but go ahead.  I make no apologies for recognizing talent, competitive spirit, and pure enjoyment for earning your paycheck, because there are very few people left in the world who actually derive pleasure from what pays their bills.

   That said, when he brings his Vikings to Lambeau on 1 November, I hope we put him on his ass.

   -hackett

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