I've gotten so many e-mails these past couple of days. "When are you going to spew some good old-fashioned hate on Fav-ruh?" "Let's hear it for retirement!" "I am Mbenga from Nigeria, and I need your help to obtain fo nds from bank in Switzerland, in amount of 10$ million, please to respond 011-84-95-19005-426." And there were some other promotional e-mails for medications that did not, in fact, work. But there's nothing on the bottle to indicate what I should do if it starts glowing green. Call a doctor, I guess, right?
If you haven't heard already, Old Man Favre retired. 17 years of misery are finally over, and he can go back to hunting, barbecuing squirrel a la tire track, and having inappropriate relations with an immediate relative. Meanwhile the Packers and Aaron Rogers are floundering. Sure, he's a 4-year veteran, but when all you've learned to do is hold a clipboard, to have to jump to getting sacked on a regular basis is a bit, well, jarring.
And how do the Bears respond? Other than throwing a nice retirement party for their arch nemesis, management resigns the Neckbeard and the Sex Cannon, and trades Greasy. The other major move they've done is to ignore the best running back on the market, Michael Turner, because the last thing you want to have on the field in December is a solid, thick runner who can hammer out yards. Better to just throw some interceptions and hope the other team has to kick it to Kali Hester.
But this is about Brett. 17 years we've been together, sharing ridiculous shovel passes and annual questions about drugs and retirement. So forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced. Vicodin is expensive, and once Brett learns he'll have to stock his own medicine cabinet, he may come running back to the green and yellow.
Plus I don't think ESPN and Sports Illustrated are ready for him to go. Maybe one more year, if only for a whirlwind Kareem-style retirement, to receive gifts from all the cities he's demoralized over the years. Is this shocking, that we of all blogs are advocating this? Maybe it's all this peyote I've been smoking, but I want the Bears to have one more chance. They can abandon all pretense of defending, and just blitz until they break his hip. That, to me, is a worthy send-off.
So goodbye, Brett. Good luck with the rest of your life. I'm just glad I never have to see you again.