So, once again it ends with a pick. Another Brett Favre mistake that cost his team a chance to play in football’s ultimate game. All he needed to do was run for 5 or 6 yards, and he could have, and let Ryan Longwell split the uprights. But that’s not Brett’s style. Sure, you can blame Adrian ‘Butterfingers’ Peterson, or the porous offensive line, but all anyone will remember is the pick. That’s the life of a quarterback. They get all the credit and all the blame. But that’s why they get the big bucks, isn’t it? 

All I know is that it was damn entertaining to watch. Brett Favre. It always is. I don’t care if you’re still rooting for him or against him; we will all miss #4 when he decides to call it a career. Think about all the talk Favre has generated in the last 19 years. And I’m not just talking about all those touchdown passes and all those interceptions. His life has been the #1 reality TV show for us for as long as we can remember.

I honestly believe Aaron Rodgers will lead the Packers to multiple championships before he’s finished. I guarantee you Rodgers would have gained those 6 yards with a run and a slide and let the kicker do his thing. Rodgers is a cool, calculating assassin. By throwing for 4,000 yards in each of his first two seasons, he’s already done something no other QB has ever done in the NFL. And I get the feeling he’s just getting started. But for some reason we just don’t connect with Rodgers like we do with Favre.

We relate to Favre. He’s like us. He makes some really stupid mistakes, says some dumb stuff, but he survives. Like us, he’s more comfortable in jeans and a baseball hat than anything else. Yet, he’s human and superhuman at the same time. For almost two decades, we have followed his every move. We saw him overcome an addiction to Vicodin, deal with numerous personal tragedies, and we watched as his wife fought breast cancer. His emotions became our emotions. His joy was our joy and somehow we felt his sadness. Thousands made a pilgrimage to little Kiln, Mississippi just to see the town he called home. And when he started the retirement soap opera, we hung on his every word.

Even on Sunday, dressed in that weird purple and white uniform, he added to his legend. He was hit more often, and harder, than we’d ever seen him hit before. He even added a little WWE to his act by limping off, only to return and lift his team once again. Brett Favre is more than a football player, he’s the ultimate entertainer. He’s a warrior; he’s an iron man, and just plain fun to watch. Is he the best QB of all time? No way. But I will miss watching the Favre show when, and if, it gets canceled.