The news of Brett Favre's retirement finally came Tuesday, either three years too late or one year too early, and like so many NFL writers, I'd like to share my thoughts on the man, his career, and his retirement.
Let's start with something obvious: Brett Favre was a terrific quarterback. He made nine Pro Bowls and won three MVP Awards. He threw for 61,655 yards and 442 touchdowns, both league records. He passed for over 4,000 yards five times and for at least 30 TDs eight times. Favre will be a first-ballot Hall of Famer, and rightfully so. He is probably the greatest quarterback in Packer history — which is saying a lot — and is almost certainly among the 10 best quarterbacks in history.
Brett Favre was also a player you could sympathize with. From his addiction to painkillers to personal tragedies in his family, the man had problems fans could relate to. Ordinary people identify with his incredible streak for consecutive starts, showing up to work even when he was in physical and psychological pain. Perhaps Favre's greatest moment was the Monday night game just after his father died. In a 41-7 Green Bay win, Favre passed for 399 yards and 4 touchdowns with no interceptions. Favre's play that night — dealing with a pain we all know on some level — is probably my fondest memory of him. Talk about a Hollywood ending, when Favre went out on that Monday night and played the game of his life, it was more than just heartwarming — it felt right.
Want to read something else good about Favre? It'll take a while to run out of material. This guy's coaches and teammates loved him. In that Oakland game on the Monday night after his dad died, Favre's receivers made some of the best catches of their careers. His receivers stepped things up to help their guy have the best night possible under the circumstances. Favre continues to have a warm relationship with many of his former coaches from Mike Holmgren's staff in Green Bay, and he's famously friendly even with many opponents, most notably Warren Sapp and Michael Strahan.
Media Coverage
Something I don't like about Brett Favre, and which is not his fault, is the way he is treated by the media. They (we?) worship the man. I don't want to come off as a hypocrite, because although I just spent three paragraphs on reasons to like Brett Favre, I'm also willing to criticize him when he makes mistakes. And in the 2005 and '06 seasons — the worst of his career — Favre made plenty of mistakes.
This isn't to demean his legacy — Dan Marino wasn't the same player in 1998 that he was in 1986, and let's not even talk about Johnny Unitas when he played for the Chargers. It happens to every quarterback, no matter how great: you're not the same player when you get older. But to listen to fawning television announcers, or to read anything by Peter King, Favre has never made a mistake.
I remember a game a couple of years ago, in which Favre threw an interception nowhere near his receiver. Al Michaels said something to the effect of, "Well, I think we know whose fault that was." He was taken aback when innocent, sorta-slow John Madden replied, "I think it was Brett Favre's fault," and then explained why. And relatively speaking, Michaels isn't bad as far as Favre-worship. The most infamous, of course, is King — look up his name with Favre's and you'll find a number of rather unsavory suggestions of just how much King loves the longtime Packer QB — but it's a tremendous problem on television, too (particularly with Joe Buck and pretty much anyone who works for ESPN). Some time a few years back, certainly no later than 2005, we reached the point that media sycophancy actually started making Favre look worse. That's not Favre's fault, but for better or worse, it's part of his legacy.
More Reasons to Like Brett Favre
You'll hear it from any football fan. He loves the game or you can tell he's having fun out there or he makes games exciting. You'll get no argument from me. I guess no one but Brett really knows if he loves the game, but if he's been doing something he hates for the last 20 years, he's quite a trooper, and even at the end of his career, he seemed to retain a childlike passion for the game, and he almost always seemed to be having fun. Who else chucks snowballs at his receivers during a game?
A fair case can be made that Brett Favre was the most exciting quarterback in history. The two most exciting things a quarterback does with any regularity are throwing touchdowns and throwing interceptions. Favre threw more TDs and more INTs than any other player in history. One is good, and one is bad, but they're both exciting. We've often heard the term "gunslinger" applied to Favre. He loved to throw, and his ability to fit passes into tight spaces is part of his legacy. Interceptions come with the territory, but when Favre had the ball something was going to happen, and more often than not it was something good.
Sometimes it seemed like Favre had a magic about him, that he could just run around for a while and eventually he'd make a big play. A classic example was this past season, when Favre, rolling right, stumbled and appeared about to fall, but held on for about five steps — and on each one you thought he was about to go down — before tossing (not passing, tossing) the ball to a receiver for a first down. Classic Favre.
My Least Favorite Thing About Brett Favre
Criticizing Brett Favre is like saying that you don't like Mona Lisa's smile. Not many people will agree with you, and you're taking shots at something darn near perfect. But lest I be accused of writing a puff piece almost as bad as whatever I'm sure ESPN is doing right now, let me tell you something I don't like about Brett Favre.
For years now, I've heard — about a million times — that Brett Favre doesn't care about records. He doesn't care about the career passing yardage record, he doesn't care about Marino's touchdown record, he doesn't care about John Elway's record for wins by a starting quarterback. Well, I've never seen any NFL player who cared more about records than Brett Favre.
Isn't it a funny coincidence that Favre retired right after breaking those marks for passing yards, TDs, and wins? We kept hearing that Favre wanted another shot at the Super Bowl, and after a 13-3 season and an NFC Championship appearance, with all his teammates and most fans expecting him to come back, Favre finally pulls the trigger now. It's hard to believe those records weren't part of his decision to keep coming back then, and his decision to retire now.
Is anyone else in the league as record-conscious as Favre was? What about Strahan's record-breaking sack, which almost everyone thinks Favre let him have? To review the basics, he called a running play, executed a naked bootleg instead, then lay down and waited for Strahan to touch him. In fairness to Favre, he says he audibled to a pass, and while there is near universal-agreement about Favre's intention to help Strahan break the record, it is still speculation, not fact. But why did the record seem to matter more to Favre than to Strahan?
If you've ever seen an interview with Favre, he always says that the records aren't important to him, but that if they were, his favorite would be the consecutive-games streak, which now ends at 253 (275 with playoffs). That makes sense when you consider that the old record was 116, and it's certainly something worth being proud about. Favre played through a lot of pain and probably hurt some of his stats by taking the field when he was less than 100%. But it makes me uncomfortable that Favre tries to draw attention to his least important record (it's what you do, not how long you did it), which is the least likely to be broken, and away from the more significant marks that are more likely to fall.
The record, which applies only among quarterbacks, is widely misunderstood. The player with the most consecutive games in NFL history is punter Jeff Feagles (320), followed by defensive end Jim Marshall (282). Those guys are good players, but they're not Hall of Famers. Honestly, the streaks are their main claims to fame. Contrast that with the runners-up for passing yards (Marino and Elway) and touchdowns (Marino and Fran Tarkenton). Those are more meaningful records.
But the record for consecutive starts is the least likely to fall, and the one Favre is most likely to be remembered for even if it is broken. Like all the other records, it's being chased by Peyton Manning. But consider this: Manning has played 10 seasons (Favre played 16, not including his rookie year as a backup in Atlanta), and he averages 4,000 yards and 30 touchdowns per year. He's on pace to break Favre's new yardage and touchdown records just five years from now. If he slows down, make it six. Either way, those marks probably aren't going to last long unless Manning gets hurt. Peyton has also started all 160 games of his NFL career. But that's 93 behind Favre, and six more healthy seasons is a lot to ask, even of Manning.
I'm sure that as time goes on, I'll remember all the great things about Brett Favre: his skill as a passer, his sense of humor, the energy he brought to the game. But right now, I'm struck by the timing of his retirement, right after he set all those records. Maybe it's just a coincidence, but at a time when the Packers look like contenders, that would be a pretty big coincidence, and after years of hearing about how the records don't matter to Favre, this leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
A Legend Moves On
I don't want to end this tribute on a sour note, or to imply that Favre's unseemly number-chasing and prevarication regarding records will be how I remember him. Favre's legacy will be as the greatest quarterback of his generation, the player who bridged the gap between the great QBs of the late '80s and early '90s (Marino, Elway, Moon, Young, etc.) and the great QBs of the 2000s (Manning, Tom Brady, etc.). It will be strange to turn on the television next fall and watch the Packers take the field without Favre at quarterback. We won't miss the constant speculation about when he'll retire, or the absurd fawning of obsequious announcers, but we'll miss just about everything else No. 4 brought to the game. Happy trails, Brett. It's been fun.
It's always been fun.
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