It's over, or is it?
If Brett Favre has really chucked his last off-balance, ill-advised pass downfield into three defenders and an opening the size of a kicking tee while being draped by two hoggies thrice his size, somewhere there's a fat lady singing.
You can bet it's not Sonny & Cher's "I got you babe." No, the groundhog day that was Favre's career, is according to No. 4, over. Green Bay no longer has it's beloved, brash signal-caller. For my money, the large lady is probably busting out the Who's "I'm Free."
Wisonsinites, the NFL and football fans everywhere won't be singing along.
He gets to go home. He can go play touch football in his jeans on a farm somewhere. But we get left behind without a maverick. Football and the NFL have transformed into an American game of Roman proportions since the Atlanta Falcons decided it would be a smart idea to shop Favre. His retirement officially signifies the end of a football era.
Continue reading "Green Bay Packers Bret Favre Takes a Generation With Him"
