As you might have heard, Brett Favre retired today. (Officially. Unofficially. Whatever.) Around these parts, we've had no bigger Favre and Packers loyalist than Jeff Bercovici, an editor at Portfolio and serious Favre man-crusher. Here, he emotes on a historic day, after the jump.
Here's a conversation I've been having a lot for the past two months:
Random Guy Who Likes Sports and Knows I'm a Packer Fan: So, you think Favre will be back?
Me: Are you kidding? Of course he'll be back.
Random Guy etc.: You sound pretty sure.
Me: You honestly think there's any way Favre would retire after going 13-3 on a young team? After having one of his best seasons ever? You think he's going to let his last pass ever be an interception?
Random Guy etc.: I guess you're right.
Me: I guarantee it!
Or, hey, maybe not.
The past few years have been a complicated time, emotionally speaking, for anyone who loves Brett Favre, and today is no exception. In no particular order, I'm feeling:
• Relief: Favre went out classy. He won't have to be dragged off the field with a hook, or carried off on a stretcher. He won't end his career with a 30-interception season, or in another uniform.
• Disgust: Did Favre really base his decision on whether Ted Thompson signed Randy Moss? I know he's the best there is and all, but I personally find it hard to root for sociopaths. Crazy, right?
• Dislocation: Six months from now, I will sit down in front of a TV with a beer and watch a quarterback wearing a number other than 4 start a game for the Packers. The last time that happened, I was studying for my bar mitzvah, and it was Crystal Pepsi, not beer.
• Pleasant anticipation: Aaron Rodgers was pretty darn good in that Cowboys game! And, hey, it might be kind of fun to watch a quarterback who can make plays with his feet, and about whom there is a genuine shortage of knowledge rather than a vast lore of recycled anecdotes.
• Sadness. Maybe Green Bay will get another quarterback as great as Favre during my lifetime, but I doubt it. More likely, I will be sitting in front of a TV with my son 15 years from now, completely ruining his enjoyment of the game by explaining to him, in patient detail, how the starting QB whose jersey he saved up his lawn-mowing money to buy is in reality a weak-armed numbnuts unfit to hold Favre's jock. Is this how it feels to be a Bears fan?