Boo hoo. Get a real job.
Oh no, not when it comes to Brett Favre. He had it to finally go ahead and make a decision, when all eyes and ears were finally off of the circus in Minnesota. Turns out, those two days of Vick coverage possibly jolted him back to reality — one where he knows he’s not the center of the universe and there are other more gifted, athletic and young quarterbacks waiting to take the throne he has held. Or, I should say, once held.
With 464 touchdowns (and 310 interceptions), a couple of Super Bowls and penchant for dawdling on retirement, Favre is myopic, iconic and problematic. (These things come in threes.) The cream of the crop of the old gun slingers, and he’s besieged by his own youthful demons. The only person benefiting from his continued existence as a professional football player in this mental capacity is Favre himself. Because at the end of the day, it’s not about team. It’s about him. And seeing how he’s not the amazing quarterback he was five years ago (maybe 10), he did the Vikings a favor by not screwing up their long term goals. Can we finally say, good riddance? I hope so. Because I don’t want another update on him and his wishy washy mind.
