I have to admit, it was a drag seeing
Brett Favre crumpled up like the sad old man that he is after getting
his head driven into the frozen, rock-hard ground by some rookie DE who
was 3 when Favre threw his first pass in the NFL.
Watching him wander
over to the sideline made me wonder how many times I've personally seen
that man incur brain damage. I guess this doesn't apply as much if you
didn't grow up in the middle of the NFC North part of the country like I
did, but I mean I've probably seen medical staff hold fingers in front
of Favre's face trying to figure out the extent of his latest closed
head injury at least a half dozen times. Not even just on replays or
highlights but actually in games.
In a way, though, we're all lucky to get a chance to observe so
thoroughly why it is important and wise to quit while you're ahead in
such excruciating and microscopic detail without having to live through
it ourselves. Rather than quitting as a Packer, expanding his
steakhouse and Wrangler jeans empire, and developing a gambling problem
like a normal ex-sports star, he just had to give it a couple more gos. And you know where that got him? Momentarily unconscious on a fucking
permafrost tundra in front of millions of TV viewers as the last hope
for his season to amount to anything asides from a huge mistake slipped
out of his grasp just like that freezing cold football.
So, he's already set just about every possible record for a
quarterback in the NFL and he'll probably have a reality show in a few
years, but for now it might be adieu. Or maybe he'll jump into it again
next year, maybe somewhere warm like Miami or something. Either way,
he's a walking, talking life lesson, and if he does indeed become our
generation's Muhammad Ali (which I hope he doesn't but seems really
likely), then it'll be an even more complex and tragic lesson than it
already is. Also, did you know his middle name is Lorenzo? No joke.