Brett Favre is a real man. He's a stud, the John Wayne of NFL quarterbacks. He's got Super Bowl rings and he'll have his bust in the Hall of Fame on the first ballot, guaranteed. He's tougher and richer than anybody you know. We already knew this before last Sunday, of course. John Madden has made it his personal mission to spread the Gospel of Brett to all English-speaking persons. Madden should be getting a check from Favre for doing his PR work. But Brett makes it so easy for Madden to gush about his constant heroics. Take the events of the Packers-Giants game last weekend, for instance.
The Packer defense was doing its best to cement Kurt Warner's bid for NFL Comeback Player of the Year award. The Packers were struggling, in vain it turned out, to keep from losing back-to-back home games for the first time in forever when Favre was dropped by Michael Strahan and William Jospeh, two exceedingly large men. Favre's dome bounced off the turf like a Ping Pong ball, and he was knocked out. This was on first down. After watching second and third downs from the sideline, Favre notices his team is going for a crucial fourt-down conversion. So what does our gunslinger do? He reinserts himself into the lineup, without any consultation of the coaching staff, tells backup Doug Pederson to take a hike, and throws a touchdown pass.
It's entirely possible that Brett Favre had no idea where he was when all this transpired. The guy was running around with a concussion, for crying out loud. The medical staff kept close tabs on him after that play and didn't let Favre get back on the field. But Favre was made to be an NFL quarterback, and he understood that his team needed him on fourth down. This guy was created to do this one thing on Earth, and he does it exceedingly well. It's not fair, really. This dude could come to a party at your house, drink you under the table, beat you at arm wrestling, and steal your girlfriend.
This may seem like an undue amount of praise for a football player, but you've got to understand where I'm coming from. Some people enjoy fine wines; others get into classic cars. I appreciate quarterback play. It's just what I do. To make a car analogy, Favre is like a Hummer. Not the fancy civilian H2, mind you, but the military-issue heavy-duty version. He's tough as nails and he gets the job done. You always know he's going to show up for work, although that may be in question this week with a concussion. Peyton Manning is like a luxury German car, totally efficient and capable of performing at a high level for long periods of time. Aaron Brooks, the quarterback of my favorite team, the Saints, is more like a restored sports car - he may evoke aahs one moment and break down inexplicably the next.
Speaking of Brooks and the Saints, I must have done something to the football gods that required retribution. How else to explain the disgusting loss New Orleans suffered at Arizona last week? This comes from the "Only the Saints" department. New Orleans out-gained the Cardinals 132 yards to four (4!) in the first quarter, yet trailed 7-0. Brooks managed to fumble just before he crossed the goal line on a quarterback sneak, costing his team a touchdown, and the Saints surrendered a touchdown when they botched a handoff on a reverse, gift-wrapping a score to a struggling team.
It goes without saying that I had money on the Saints. Few teams lose under ridiculous circumstances without taking my money down with them. I was also on the wrong end of the Buffalo meltdown, where Drew Bledsoe turned a potential game-tying (and covering) opportunity into a long Patriots defensive touchdown in a matter of seconds. Way to go, Drew. Were you not watching when the Pats snuffed the Colts under the same circumstances on Opening Day?
It seems the Patriots have a knack for making quarterbacks fall apart in the clutch. Yet even the champs have their nemesis. Quick question - who was the last quarterback to beat New England in the Super Bowl? You guessed it. Brett Favre
