Thursday, August 5, 2010

Would Somebody Please Give Brett Favre a Snickers?!


Similar to Aretha Franklin in the preceding Snicker's commercial, whenever a member of the media puts a tape recorder in the face of Brett Favre after one of his off season workouts at Oak Grove High School in Hattiesburg, MS., he turns into a diva. Unfortunately for those of us who turn to ESPN looking for sports but are instead inundated with countless updates on the latest installment of Favregate, Hershey doesn't make a Snickers bar big enough to quinch the hunger for attention that this media man whore has displayed after each of the last 3 seasons.


What do you want from us Brett?

Your annual inability to come to some sort of definitive conclusion on your availability to play in the upcoming season makes the indecisive nature that you displayed in this Sears commercial (below) look like fiction imitating life.


Everybody loves you Brett! Your rugged good looks and aw shucks southern charm developed as a little boy growing up in Gulfport, MS. has everyone falling over themselves to get to Wal-Mart for a pair of those Wranglers that you shamelessly peddle.



You are arguably the best quarterback that has ever played in the National Football League (don't tell Troy Aikman that I said that). You are the only player in history to be named the AP Most Valuable Player 3 consecutive years (95-97). You've been selected to 11 Pro Bowls. You've led the Packers, Jets, and Vikings to eight division championships, five NFC Championship Games, and two Super Bowl appearances, winning it all with the (Green Gay Fudge) Packers in 1996 at Superbowl XXXI in New Orleans. You've made an NFL record 285 consecutive starts (309 when you include the playoffs). You hold the all-time NFL record for wins (181), completions (6,083), attempts (9,811), yards (69,329), and touchdowns (497).

Jesus Christ had to feed the masses, turn water into wine, die, and be resurrected to amass the quantity and quality of acclaim that you now enjoy for chucking a pigskin up and down the field. I'm pretty sure that differences between Brett Favre and Jesus Christ is one that is completely lost on ole number 4.

Unfortunately Brett, you also hold the NFL record for interceptions (317) and number of times that you've held the media, the fans, and your employer hostage while you mull over the merits of accepting the Minnesota Viking's revised offer of $16 million($20 million with incentives)to hitch your Hall of Fame credentials and enormous ego to your Ford F250 and head north to Mankato, MN, the home of the Minnesota ViQueens. Your hostage taking skills make the antics of the Branch Davidians and the Jonestown cult look like amateur night at the Appolo.

Favre's agent, Bus Cook (That's his name, no kidding), said Wednesday that the 40-year old quarterback plans to return to Minnesota if he is healthy and fully recovered from off-season ankle surgery. I know it’s a decision that he wrestles with,” Bevell said after a morning practice as Favre was throwing the ball around with high school students in Mississippi. “He’s a great player. He’s a great competitor. He mulls things over. He’s an emotional guy. So he thinks things through long and hard and takes his time with his decision. So I’m not surprised that things started to come out. We just have to wait and see.”

Isn't that what we've been doing for the past 3 off season Bus? Don't get me wrong, we all have big decisions to make in our lives that are emotional and require deep thought and consideration. Most if not all of those decisions usually don't involve guaranteed generational wealth, fame, and a team that returns virtually intact from a trip to the NFC Championship game last year. Save us the theatrics Brett. In a world where television programs, such as The Bachelorette, masquerade as an acceptable interpretation of objective reality, your antics only serve to accentuate the gulf between those of us with real problems and legitimate concerns and folks like you who live over the rainbow where, this time of year, a "legitimate concern" is whether you should summer on Martha's Vineyard or the Hamptons.

Look Brett, I know that you're only hanging us with the lengthy piece of rope that we've given you. Players, coaches, and fans all agree that the game is much better with you in it. The 14.2 metered-market rating that the Packers-Vikings Don't-Call-It-A-Grudge-Match garnered readily backs up our national lust for your follies on the field. I think that it would be prudent of you to remember the old Aesop fable about the boy that cried wolf:

To amuse himself he took a great breath and sang out, "Wolf! Wolf! The Wolf is chasing the sheep!"

The villagers came running up the hill to help the boy drive the wolf away. But when they arrived at the top of the hill, they found no wolf. The boy laughed at the sight of their angry faces.

"Don't cry 'wolf', shepherd boy," said the villagers, "when there's no wolf!" They went grumbling back down the hill.

Later, he saw a REAL wolf prowling about his flock. Alarmed, he leaped to his feet and sang out as loudly as he could, "Wolf! Wolf!"

But the villagers thought he was trying to fool them again, and so they didn't come.

At sunset, everyone wondered why the shepherd boy hadn't returned to the village with their sheep. They went up the hill to find the boy. They found him weeping.

"There really was a wolf here! The flock has scattered! I cried out, "Wolf!" Why didn't you come?"

An old man tried to comfort the boy as they walked back to the village.

"We'll help you look for the lost sheep in the morning," he said, putting his arm around the youth, "Nobody believes a liar...even when he is telling the truth!"


When your career is really over Brett, will your fans be there to comfort you as you walk into the sunset and head back to your Mississippi farm to clear brush in perpetuity.

Nobody likes a ridiculously wealthy indecisive attention whore media diva athlete, even if, in the fantasy world between his ears, his indecision is warranted.

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