Brett Favre loses another one late

It’s kind of adorable, the way Brett Favre thinks he’s helping. It’s always been adorable. The way that Favre took the “ol’ backcountry gunslinger” label to heart and really thought he was the nameless stranger riding in, pulling his jacket collar up, to save the town from the black-hatted sheriff. What we know is that Favre only ever really succeeded in missing the sheriff with his shot, piercing a leg of the water tower and causing it to collapse and flood the town.

Favre, as has always been his way, dropped in late into the presidential race last week to endorse Donald Trump right before a rally in Green Bay.

Favre, a resident of Mississippi but still identified with Wisconsin (perhaps only self-identified), and under the impression that he’s still beloved there, probably thought he could be the final push. The defining blow. Just like all those passes that were late over the middle with less than five minutes to go. They were heroic, if only you could see what he did.

And of course, Wisconsin went for Biden, the state called this afternoon.

See Brett, the thing is, what Packers fans know deep down is that you cost them more Super Bowls than you won. Oh sure, you cost the VIkings one too, and maybe that undid some of the damage, but not all. Schadenfreude (or is it schadenfavre) is only a temporary narcotic and no real cure, after all.

The Eagles, the Giants, the Rams, the Broncos, all of them know the gifts that Favre will drop on opposing sides at the most vital moment. You could set your watch to it. Favre would get that glint in his eye, start pawing at his imaginary holsters, and then try and thread a pass through six defenders that he hoped would just instantly faint at the mere sight of his heroism. And then someone in the opposing colors would stare on in shock as the ball nestled perfectly between their numbers, ending the Packers’ season, as if it was meant to be. Because it was. Sure, he got one ring, but how many did he leave lying around?

And so it played out in Wisconsin. Favre chiming in with barely any racetrack left, coming to save the day in his mind. And it went the other way, because it always did. Finally, Wisconsin knows what it looks like from the side of everyone else now. Favre staring blankly at where his triumph was supposed to be, and somehow missing his fuck-up, learning nothing as he reloads to do it all again down the line.