the picture right above this text is a blobtower. the rest of this... is the blogtower. check the tags. or don't. thanks for perching through. love you.
a pale, soft, yellow light at the end of a day you barely remember.
C'mon. Lets be done with it.
I think that is great, infact, that our Brett Favre spent his last year with the Jets. Because, in a way, we got to see him elsewhere; we got to see him be human. We got to hang out with him after they rolled away the stone; except he was in a Jets jersey and wasn't a green & golden immortal god. But we watched him play, and maybe we actually cheered for him a bit... We watched him, his character, truly love his game. He was just in a different town.
There is no real way to describe Brett Favre, in comparison to other NFL players. You could call him the best, the greatest, the toughest, but you wouldn't have to say any of those things to accurately describe the powerful singularity of his game and what he meant to the people all over the country, what he will mean... and what he meant to us in Wisconsin; it is immeasurable. He was in EVERY home. Every liquor grocery aisle.
But, like I said, it was good that he left.
It was hard for a while for us. Bordering on embarrassing, truly sad. But only for a couple weeks while the media did their awful job during the whole mess. Then, we all settled down and tuned in to the Packers pre-season games and, honestly, forgot about it somehow. Because we are Packer fans. We own our team. They are our state's common denominator. And, well, I cried when I saw Aaron Rodgers close his eyes in the swarm of beer and arms and love of his first Lambeau leap.
I will miss watching Brett Favre play. For my whole life.
