The topic of this screed is Brett Favre, and why he's a "legend." I think. I'm not sure, and I've read it four times. Maybe you can help me.
This was why they invented the word "legend."
I thought the word "legend" was invented for the Will Smith vehicle "I Am Legend." I mean, it's right there in the title of the movie: he is legend. Brett Favre, on the other hand, is an overpaid, overcovered, and (apparently) underhung quarterback for a bad football team.
But, more to the point: the Vikings lost on Sunday. Seems like kind of an odd time to be crowing about the "legendary" exploits of Minnesota's quarterback, no?
Brett Favre was not the best quarterback on the field Sunday night when Aaron Rodgers and the Green Bay Packers exorcised their demons by beating Favre and the Minnesota Vikings, 28-24.
Shit, Dave, I think there's a strong argument that Favre wasn't even the second-best quarterback on the field on Sunday. I mean, did you see the ball that Matt Flynn threw to the uncoordinated, fourth-string tight end whose name I can't remember?
But he was the only one who had his hands wrapped around our hearts.
I know what you want me to do: you want me to say, "Better that he had his hands wrapped around our hearts than around his hoo-hoo-dillie." And, ordinarily, I would say just that. But we have to stay on task, people. There's nonsense to dissect here.
Forget Ted Thompson.
Forget the Jets and the Vikings.
Forget the texting and sexting and little boy voicemails.
Little boy voicemails? Is Brett Favre going to be on To Catch a Predator?!? My tittles are lated here, Dave, but, with the expectation that you're going somewhere with this: Fine. They're out of mind.
Forget all of that crap because none of that really matters. What matters is that with all the odds stacked against him, with the fury of 80,000 people raining down on his shoulders, with one leg, one arm, gray hair, and with time running out, he almost did it again.
Oh. So you do remember that the Vikings didn't win. You just decided to construct a column around the premise: "Brett Favre is a legend because his team almost won." That's sensible. Or: you're desperately trying to win eyeballs for your site by taking a preposterous -- and barely-comprehensible -- position.
One or the other.
The ball was snapped, he dropped back and he fell down. But in an apt metaphor for his legend, he got back up, stepped up and threw a bullet into the end zone again. This one was high. Just high. Barely high.
Six feet over Moss's head high.
And, just so we're clear: the "apt metaphor for his legend" -- and, briefly: what the fuck? A "metaphor for his legend"? Perhaps you meant vignette, or something along those lines -- is an incomplete pass?
And this is a good thing?
You're sure you want to keep going down this road? It's not too late to turn back. I can still see the fork in the road, back there near Bat-Shit Crazy Boulevard. No? You're good?
That [sic] the thing about him. He played a game for two decades with a sense of wonder and wonderful adventure. His failings made us love his success even more.
His failings caused the demise of two (2) remote controls, one (1) beer mug, and put a sizable dent in my closet door. (I threw a shoe.) Other than that, I didn't get a whole lot out of his failings, and they certainly didn't lead me to conclude: "This guy is a legend!"
He never quit.
Minor quibble: he quit twice.
Not almost never. Not almost never. Never!
All of a sudden, this turned into a scene out of a bizarro H.M.S. Pinafore:
Did he almost quit?
NOT ALMOST NEVER!
What, not almost never?
NOT ALMOST NEVER! NEVER!
That's what a legend is.
So, on the list of "Things a Legend Is," we've now got:
(1) Someone who never quits. Not almost never. Never.
If this is the primary criterion, then I would like to point out that I never quit my grocery bagging job in high school. Not almost never. NEVER. I am a fucking legend.
There is a reality to all legends and there is a myth to them as well. Brett Favre has a ton of reality and several tons of myth.
Add to the list, re: "Things a Legend Is":
(2) Someone who has "a ton of reality and several tons of myth."
While working at the grocery story, I once used a skid jack, an empty Minute Maid jug, and a block of Mild Brick cheese to stop a runaway grocery truck. Management was so grateful that I was given a lifetime supply of the foodstuffs of my choice. I selected cheese-filled microwaveable pretzels, grape Juicy Juice, and Mr. Goodbars.
Fucking. Legend. This guy.
Let us never forget that the most hallowed name in the long history of the Green Bay Packers turned his back on the team and left them to go to the Washington Redskins. His name was Vince Lombardi.
No, thanks. I had lunch today. No red herring for me.
So, too, should it be for this flawed quarterback who gives us thrills and chills even when wearing the uniform of the enemy.
That's why they invented the word "legend."I've spent all my bullets, so I turn to a trusted source for the final word:
You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.