Hangin ’em up

I usually try to stay home with columns. Keep it Beaver. But yesterday the NFL said goodbye to someone, and they deserve to be acknowledged. The NFL said goodbye to a hero and a leader. A man amongst boys and a flower amongst weeds.

Brett Favre retired.

People say he is the greatest quarterback to ever throw a quick slant, screen pass or deep ball. And, I can’t argue. He could probably squeeze the square block into the circular hole, if he wanted too. Heck, he’s made a habit of it, metaphorically. The times when you think there is no possible way for him to snake out of a situation; there he is, with a smile on his face.

He once stood in the shadow of his own field goal post and threw a 99-yarder to Robert Brooks. He’s thrown the same seven yard quick slant to Donald Driver for six years. He’s shovel passed to Ryan Grant, Samkon Gado, Ahman Green, Dorsey Levens, Edgar Bennett and Vince Workman during the last 15 years at Lambeau.

Now he is done.

Brett Favre, at times, is all you need to say when describing the NFL. He was a man that was breaking records every time he strapped on a helmet and laced up his cleats, literally. He played 255 consecutive regular season games in his career, an NFL record. He retires with 5,377 career completions in 8,758 attempts for 61,655 yards, 442 touchdowns and 288 interceptions. And looked like a man who had no intention of stopping. Even when his body, and all logic, told him to.

But it was his head, of all things, that told him it was time to go. Favre wasn’t sore when he decided to call it quits, he was tired. Mentally tired.

And who wouldn’t be. Favre’s life is a roller coaster that would make Six Flags jealous. He has battled through quite possibly the longest string of bad fortune any quarterback has faced in the history of the NFL. He was involved in a near fatal car accident, addicted to pain killers, his father passed away, his brother-in-law was killed in an ATV accident, his wife was diagnosed with breast cancer and Hurricane Katrina ravaged his home. Meanwhile, every Sunday or Monday, and sometimes on Thursday Favre put on his pads, threw on his jersey, strapped up his helmet and walked out onto the field.

The weekend his father passed away he threw for 399 yards and four touchdowns in the first half. He battled back from a 4-12 season to the best season of his career and the best career in the history of the NFL. When he surpassed Dan Marino, it was one of his famous quick slants to Driver in the fourth quarter to push his career passing yards to six yards further than Marino’s. He finished the game with 227 yards, but who’s counting anymore? He is a first ballot Hall of Famer and might have his own wing in Canton.

Even fans that don’t like the Packers, like Favre. He played the game coltishly and never missed an opportunity to have fun on the field. Fans lived vicariously through Favre. Not only because they want too, but because they can. Because with Favre, it’s all about mentality. He was once quoted, “Mind over matter because if you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” Almost the American working man’s motto.

Favre is a down south kid from a big family. He grew up in Kiln, Mississippi which is about as big as a ripe Georgia peach. His father coached the high school football team. His upbringing was as American as apple pie with Cool Whip on top.

Every time fans watched him gallop up the field after a touchdown pass they cheered and laughed with him. And after an interception, when Favre pulls his chin strap from his left ear with frustration, they felt his anger and aggravation.

But that is about as angry as you will ever see Favre – the few seconds after an interception. By the time he made it to the bench he was calm and colleted. Almost painfully stoic.

Empathy might be the best word to describe Favre. It seems to be the motif of his career. Empathy is the audience projecting itself into the performer. If what the performer does involves strain or joy, the audience experiences it also. Tom Hanks has made millions off of it. Favre has made a career of it, too.

But after all of the records and all of the fame, Favre might be best remembered as the best testament to the workingman in this country. For those people who work 12-hour days, raise a handful of kids and make it to service every weekend. Brett Favre is a shining beacon.

Some people mock his perfect attendance. For showing up to work regardless of the obstacle put in his way. Much like they did for Cal Ripken. Others say he didn’t deserve the passing records.

But he does. If there is one person who fits at the top, has earned his stripes and paid his dues, it’s Brett Favre. Haters can push their dislike of Favre as hard as they can, but chances are it will never fit.

In 20 years fans might forget individual games but they will remember his boyish smile and charisma for the game. He was the model athlete every boy picking up a football should look towards. A kid who never grew up and played his whole ife. Until yesterday, when he decided to retire.