"You try to smile, but in your eyes your sorrow shows. Yes, it shows.
I can't live, if living is without you. I can't give, I can't give anymore."
Today, March 4th, 2008, the Greatest Quarterback to ever play the Game has retired from professional football. Brett Favre, "The Gunslinger", has announced his retirement at age 38. Favre leaves the game with records for Most Completions (Career), Most Touchdowns Thrown (Career), Most Passing Yards (Career), and Most Consecutive Starts (Career) to name a few; and a Super Bowl Championship, a game in which he was awarded the Most Valuable Player. Similarly, Favre took three Associated Press M.V.P.'s., a feat that has never been duplicated.
But more so than these notable accomplishments, Favre will be remembered best for his personality and guile, both on and off the field. Suffering several personal tragedies over the course of his career, Favre repeatedly rose to the occasion by putting together unforgettable performances following off-field heartbreak. But even beyond these heroic efforts, Favre showed an entire generation of young fans what a true leader looks like on the gridiron. Though not without making his own share of mistakes, all legitimate football fans will forever remember his triumphs first, usually in the form of his dozens of bootleg plays whereby #4 turned a seemingly broken play into huge gains, almost always at critical points of the game. A warhorse, Favre's record of consecutive starts will most likely never be broken by any player, save kickers, as the distinguished field-general played through serious injuries in his unyielding desire to always give every last inch to win for his team, and his fans. A pure player, who seems like a throwback to a bygone era, what entranced fans most about Favre was his obvious love of the game itself; seeming more like he was throwing the ball around in a pick-up game on a dirt road in Kiln, Mississippi... when in fact he'd be leading former-Champion Packers down the field in the closing minutes on the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field. On a personal note, Favre's charisma was so magnetic, that I carried his jersey while viewing each Giants playoff game, including the game played against the Packers, if only in the hopes of imparting some of Favre's magic to the G-Men. And, for the record, look at the results.
From every true football fan, and especially from this Giants/Bills fan, Brett Favre will be forever missed. Already, Sundays seem more empty. He was always a consumate professional, and class-act, who was possessed of a unnerving natural affinity for the sport. Congratulations on a unbelievable career, Brett, and we all look forward to cheering for you in Canton, OH as you take the stage in the summer of 2013. There has never been, and probably will never be, another like you. - Keinada.
A commentary by CambodianMonk to follow...
Well, I have had almost a week to fully immerse myself in all things Brett Favre. I can still say that I have no idea what I am going to write in this blog. Maybe I took too long to come up with something or maybe it is still too painful to talk about. I watched the Giants DVD again last night. And I started crying as if my mother had just died. NO, I wasn't crying because the Giants won the SuperBowl....I wasn't even watching that part. I was watching the NFC Championship game. It was just sad to see Brett go out like that. I understand that it was the New York Football Giants and I would not trade their win for anything in the world. But there had to be some way for Brett to win that game and the Giants still go to the Super Bowl. You know, wishful thinking.
Aside from all of the records, the Super Bowl win and the 3 MVP's in a row, the most amazing thing about watching Brett play was HOW HE PLAYED THE GAME. As Marv Levy said, "HE was the last gunslinger". (That was for Keinada, as his love for Marv is far greater than his love for Natalie....he just won't admit it) He was on the football field, especially Lambeau, and he was having fun. The guy just loved to play. After watching his press conference the other day, you could see it. You could tell he was saying goodbye to the sport of football forever. There will no longer be Brett on the field on Sunday. I won't get to see him throw another pass or another touchdown. I won't see him throw an 80yd bomb down the field, chasing after it with on arm in the air, just to high five Antonio Freeman or Donald Driver or Mark Chamura or Rober Brooks or Sterling Sharpe or Greg Jennings. He was at that moment....A Fan. That's the way he was. Happier for the other guy then he was for himself.
I will probably get ridiculed for the gayness of this one but I, along with every other true football fan, will undoubtedly miss his smile. He was on the field every Sunday with the same damn sexy yet devious smile on his face. And when it came down to it, you were more afraid of playing him for that reason. You knew that if the Packers were down by 7 or less and Brett came on the field with the crazy smile and look of determination, your team was in trouble. Brett is the only QB that I would want with 2 mins left in the 4th with my team down by 7 or less.
When he was on the field, you would think that he was playing on a field in Mississippi with a bunch of his buddies on a Sunday afternoon. He would zing passes in between two defenders as if they weren't even there. Yes, he threw intercecptions and made mistakes, but tha made him seem more human. He wasn't afraid to throw the deep ball with two defenders on a receiver. He wasn't afraid to throw it over the middle or throw a screen during an all out blitz. In todays game, it seems that every QB is afraid to make a mistake, let alone the game ending mistake. But not Brett. He wasn't afraid to lay it all out on the field. He played the game the only way that he knew how. He played it his way and the fans let him know how much they loved that about him.
Like he said, "Little ol' Southern Miss, southern boy from Hancock County who had big dreams, no different than any other kid, to play here, and there's no better place to play." Well Brett, thank you for dreaming, because if you hadn't, I would have never seen you play. I wouldn't have seen so many plays that made me sa "what the....how the fuck did he make that work". YOU are THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME. There will never be another field general who will match in you in charisma, heart, determination or gall. But most of all, there will never be another Favre, noone will be able to duplicate in the slightest what you were able to do. You are bigger then Lombardi now in Green Bay.
In closing, I would like to wish you and Deanna the best of luck in the future. I hope you don't stay away too long. Maybe you can replace Troy in the booth, you would get to see Eli play a little like you. You know the reckless abandon part. I will miss seeing you on a Sunday, having fun and just playing the game of footbal. Playing it the way it was meant to be played. Noone in the stands, no coaches....just you, some friends and the pigskin. From a New York Giants fan, Thank you for the memories, they will not be forgotten. And you will give us one more....Canton, OH in 2013...maybe sooner.
-Cambodian Monk-
Shania Twain, Canada's contribution to country music of the 1990's (hosers), reappeared recently... and god damn! Thats a fine looking 42 year-old. Its not like I'm discovering this today, of course. Any child who had the misfortune to begin puberty before the wide-spread adoption of the internet (read: anyone born between the dawn of time and 1985) knows damn well that the next suitable option are pop-music videos. And in that fateful time period, Ms. Twain's artistic endeavors were well-soiled by millions of sweaty and incredibly awkward teen boys. Oh, the good ol' days...
Wait a minute! Those days sucked! If I remember correctly, they went something like this: "What the fuck is this?! Six Foo Fighters videos in a row?! Goddammit, I'd settle for a fucking Spice Girls video at this point! I've gotta to go to school in five minutes! Fuck this, there has to be an aerobic informercial on somewhere." Oh, internet. How I've taken you for granted. And how you've taken away the last fifteen years of my life, in turn. Without you, my imagination would remain forever un-sodomized. But thanks to you, now the line between sexual aroused and profoundly disturbed is thinner than ever. So, from me to you: Thanks, internet. Now lets go watch some midget dogs get defecated on by Brazillian shemales. Ahhh, its like watching a moving Norman Rockwell painting.
