Let's talk about THAT guy...

My general feeling about Brett Favre is one of mild annoyance. If pressed to consider it further, it'd probably turn to all out indifference. But let's try to care for a minute, because I have something relatively new to bring to the table.

Given: Brett Favre is a good player and a messed up dude.

1. I know the first part because I watch football and trust that these numbers are correct.

2. I didn't really consider the second part until recently because of the aforementioned indifference, but let me tell you what informed my opinion:

This spring I had the chance to meet Al 'Bubba' Baker, a fantastic defensive lineman from the 1980s. He shared several interesting insights* about the game, notably that the best part of it was the camaraderie. He said he loved playing football, but that he never missed it. He missed his teammates, his friends. He said that the best part of the sport was the deep bonds it formed with others, and that he missed going to work with 52 best friends every day.

He went on to speculate about Brett Favre. Al said that at a certain point, no one misses the game; it's just too brutal, and there's too much else to life to keep playing. He said that if Brett Favre missed being with his teammates and friends, he wouldn't be shortchanging training camp and practices; but, as we know, Brett the (former) Jet hasn't been in camp the last three years. Therefore, the thing Brett misses is the sound of the crowd. And if at age 40, a man can't be satisfied unless he's in a room of 80,000 admirers, then he's a silly mess.

So taking all this into consideration, I'm not so much annoyed by Brett Favre. I'm annoyed by the ESPN hype machine that liberally jizzes the word 'intangibles' on him, like he's some kind of Sidney Crosby or Derek Jeter. But as for Favre, I mostly just view him as pitiable. I mean, it's a pretty simple, defensible premise that my friend Bubba is proposing: this is a 40-year-old man who is tremendously rich, successful and talented, yet can't rest in peace; he'd rather take the physical beating than the silence. Almost a Kafkaian anti-hero, but I hardly want to afford him such epic martyrdom. He's really just a prick who needs approval and attention.

I'll say this about him going forward: a lot of people like the Vikings in 2010 because they were just one score away from the Super Bowl in 09. Truth is, they were the beneficiaries of parity. Their season ended exactly where it should have: well ahead of the pack, but short of great. As seen in the game against us, and in the NFC championship, they could be tamed by a physical game plan (the Ravens also put it to them with the same strategy, and came up a lucky field goal short). In 2010, the Vikings will be loose in the secondary, and this will tax the very talented D-line. The running game will continue to be superb IF healthy. The receivers are decent to good. And the passer... he's 40 and surrounded by good, if not great, all around him. Again, IF healthy, things will be okay. But great?

Doubtful.

If I was I was Brett, and I wanted to win a championship, I'd probably just sit down in my arm chair, put on a DVD of the '96 Packers and kill myself with an overdose of painkillers. If I wanted adoration from the ever discerning Bachmann/Franken constituency, I'd strap it on for another 16 games of nut shattering pain and early playoff exit. So it goes for the latter.

And good luck to you, Brett, you old prick. So best as your interests don't conflict with our interests, thank you.

---

*Another interesting insight from A'B'B was in regards to D-lineman play. Please close your eyes and imagine my friend: he's six and half feet tall, and still probably 260, after losing his playing weight. He's huge. And while he's really nice and personable, I imagine he was quite scary on the field of battle. However, he revealed that the thing that terrified him the most was his own size. He said that his height and weight made him extremely vulnerable to low blocks, and that if an O-lineman were to hit him in the leg, his own weight would crush his lower body. He said that for this reason, he refused to play inside on any line in his career. Only once did he set with a lineman on either side of him, and it was a field goal block; every other down, he insisted on playing defensive end, never tackle. If a blocker was dropping down on him, he wanted to be able to swerve to an outside lane, and not be caught inside another fatty.

I mention all this because I've always been fascinated by the body types of lineman. The nose tackle is supposed to be no more than 6'2" and no less than 330 lbs. Ends are supposed to be taller and leaner. I always assumed this was because of leverage: that an NT had an advantage in keeping his pads low if he was short, and that an end needed length to seal up the edge. But perhaps, it also has to do with basic safety. A tall man is indeed more vulnerable to a cut block. And if that tall guy doesn't have a lane to escape to, then he brings down his teammates with him. Meanwhile, a short fatty is harder to bring down by his legs, and if he is taken out, he doesn't pull the other D-linemen with him.

Just a thought.