Blog Why it's okay to stop worrying and hate Brett Favre

For 16 years Brett Favre was our favorite football player. Hell, he might have been our favorite anybody doing anything. But as the old saying goes, love is blind, and now that we’re eight days into the “Brett Favre is a Minnesota Viking” era, it’s amazing how the things we used to overlook out of affection now seem irredeemably annoying. It's like the quirky ex-girlfriend you thought was really cute when you were dating, and then realized was fucking insane after you broke up.

The more we think about it, the more it seems like Favre has long been the kind of “me first” athlete he was supposed to be the antithesis of. Yes, we recognize that he's still one of the greatest Packers—if not the greatest—ever. We'd have to be morons not to. But you can love what Favre was and also despise what he's become. But not everyone feels this way. In fact, there are still plenty of Favre apologists out there in Packers Nation. You know who they are—they're still making the same, tired "He just wants to play, darn it!' arguments that completely dismiss how petty, small, and downright dishonest the man has been in the past year.

In a way, we feel sorry for the apologists. Instead of enjoying a new era of Packers football, these people are stuck in the past, and sounding increasingly lonely on sports radio call-in shows. If you’re still a Favre apologist, here are some arguments to set you straight.

He’s selfish … and that’s nothing new
After years of media treatment perhaps best described as “balls suckling,” Favre is finally being criticized for his self-absorbed diva bullshit. But while it’s easy to knock him now for his melodramatic waffling and mid-life crisis-inspired need for attention, Favre has always been a master at selfishly demanding the spotlight while, incredibly, not being called out for it by otherwise bloodthirsty sports columnists who pile on whenever Terrell Owens does anything even remotely off-putting. Favre’s most impressive acts of media manipulation involve spinning his bone-headed lapses in judgment as manifestations of his gunslingin’, fun-lovin’, nice guy persona, like the time he laid down for Michael Strahan so his buddy could get the sack record in 2001. He was just havin’ fun out there, right? Sure he was. He also made Strahan look like a chump who could only break the record with the help of the almighty No. 4. But, hey, we’re still talking about Favre’s role in the record eight years later, so mission accomplished, Brett.

He’s a jerk to younger quarterbacks who are almost as good as he used to be
No matter how much in love with him they might still be, Favre's apologists surely can’t find much at fault with his successor, Aaron Rodgers. By all accounts Rodgers has been a class act, no matter how many smelly dumps Favre continues to lay on his head. Last year dullard Favre fans brought their equally dim children to boo and curse at Rodgers during training camp, and he handled it about as well as you could expect a person to deal with F-bomb-dropping 2nd graders. Those same people will no doubt be the first to piss and moan the moment Rodgers has a bad game this season. Meanwhile, Rodgers keeps on trying—perhaps to his detriment—to reach out to the grumpy old man he replaced. Earlier this year Rodgers admitted that he hadn’t talked to Favre in more than a year, in part because Mr. Nice Guy didn’t return his phone calls. Oh well, he was probably too busy playing touch football on the bayou in his Wranglers, just like you ’n’ me!

He cares little for your team’s streaks
From 1933 to 2003, the Packers never lost a home playoff game. That’s right, for 70 years, no matter how good the opponent, no matter how ball-numbingly cold the weather, no matter which names were stitched on the back of the jerseys, if the Packers were playing at Lambeau Field in the playoffs, a W was guaranteed. Death and taxes were mere footnotes on this stretch of NFL excellence. Enter the pre-convict Michael Vick (playing in his first playoff game) leading his wholly mediocre 9-6-1 Atlanta Falcons into Lambeau fucking Field. The score was 24-0 at halftime, and Favre finished with the ignominious line of two interceptions and one lost fumble in the 27-7 thrashing. Also keep in mind this was six long football years ago—if Favre in his prime had enough kryptonite to destroy the Lambeau invincibility shield, remind us again why the Vikes think he’s the guy to end their pathetic Super Bowl oh-fer? He’s all yours, Minnesota. Enjoy. 

He doesn’t always save his best for last
History is lenient in that if you do something important in your august years, all will be forgiven. For all the hype over Favre being a big-time post-season player, he’s actually choked it more often than not. Most of his choke-jobs are mostly forgotten these days (like that one time he threw six interceptions in a playoff game against the Rams). But the 2007 NFC Championship game against the Giants is simply unforgivable. The game seemed to be set up by NFL Films scriptwriters for Favre’s glory: The wind chill was at minus-24, and the 38-year-old was playing in presumably his last game ever at Lambeau Field against an inferior opponent. Well, we don’t need to tell you how No. 4 blew that one. It’s easy to recall Favre’s soul-crushing final pass as a Packer—an overtime interception, of course—but most people conveniently forget how the Packers were only able to tie the game late after one of Favre’s patented desperation heaves was picked and immediately fumbled back by the Giants. Instead of a beatification, the game turned into a Favre-guided A-bomb detonated in the collective groin of Packers Nation. 

Think of him like The Stones
The biggest disconnect Packers fans have these days is between the Favre they loved in the ’90s and early ’00s and the gray-bearded, two-faced drama queen of today. We understand the urge to excuse his recent behavior because he used to be awesome. But it really is possible to love the Favre that won the Super Bowl and not like the guy who plays for the Vikings. It’s best to think of Favre like a classic rock band that never broke up. For instance, you might love The Rolling Stones because of “Satisfaction” and “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” and “Brown Sugar.” That doesn’t mean you have to love A Bigger Bang. The fact that Mick Jagger was the greatest frontman in rock in his day doesn’t mean he doesn’t resemble an albino raisin in leather pants these days. Trust us: Once you separate the young, fresh-faced, perennial MVP-winner from the bitter, grizzled, Ted Thompson-hating gasbag in your mind, you’ll be much happier.