Life After Favre

Nineteen ninety-two was a big year.

My daughter was born – my oldest child. That’s not why it was a big year, of course: I only mention it for context.

She was 134 days old – four months, thirteen days – on September 13 of that year. A button, she was. Bright red curly hair, pudgy cheeks, and a howl that made coyotes cover their ears in pain.

That was the day Brett Favre first saw game action for the Green Bay Packers.

A week later, at 143 days, Favre took over for an injured Don Majkowski and rallied his team to a come-from-behind win.

And one week after that, at 150 days, Favre started his first game.

She’ll be 5,975 days old – settling in to her junior year of high school – when somebody besides Brett Favre finally starts under center for the Green Bay Packers. That’s my daughter. I’ve got three sons, too: none of them have ever seen another quarterback start for Green Bay.

We didn’t know, in 1992, that we were watching the start of a legend.

We didn’t know it, on December 7 of that year. The day Paul Molitor left Milwaukee and signed with the Toronto Bluejays.

Remember that? I do. I was driving up California Highway 1 at the very moment the news broke. Had to pull over for a couple minutes, out of shock.

That was one day after Favre threw for 214 yards and 3 touchdowns (his first 3-touchdown game ever) to beat Detroit 38-10.

Like I said, 1992 was a big year.

Many of us are feeling the very same way today – like we need to stop, pull over, breathe into a paper bag for a while. And we’ll remember where we were when we first heard the news that Favre is calling it a career.

The all-time fumbles record is not to be.

What else will we remember? As another blogger asked: what’s your favorite Favre memory? Your favorite moment?

Mine…well, he used to tell a story about his dog being eaten by an alligator. That’s hard to beat.

I won’t even try. There wasn’t just one moment. It was the aw-shucks southern boy persona. The guy who came into the league a fresh-faced rawboned hick, and who’s leaving the league a gray-bearded rawboned hick.

It was the whole package. The grin. The bristles. The time he jumped over a chipmunk that somehow got onto Lambeau Field, and we all held our breath in case he turned an ankle. The high velocity rifle-passes; the looping bombs; the god-I-can’t-look dives to the corner pylon; the improvised shovel passes with a defensive tackle hanging from his jersey.

Bennett. White. Brooks. Chmura. Freeman. Butler. Brown. Levens. Sharpe. Holmgren. Other than White, none of them are memories in and of themselves. All of them reflect, one way or another, off of Favre. He’s the team. He’s the game.

God, I’m gonna miss him.

So. On to Aaron Rodgers? Um…maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see. He doesn’t exactly fit the theme, does he? Before Favre, there was Majkowski. The name “Rodgers” seems awfully mundane.

Or does the “d” add the necessary oddity?

Rodgers had one good game in a pressure situation – he did play well in relief against Dallas this year, and had a chance to win.

But then he got hurt…in practice.

So I’m not sold. I’m not not sold, either, but you know: whether I’m sold or not is irrelevant.

At least we’re not the Bears. We may not know what’s in store for us, but we don’t have Kyle Orton and Rex Grossman competing for the starting job.

Speaking of which, let’s not just stand pat with Rodgers and Craig Nall. Quarterback is the single most important job on the field. Draft this year. Draft again next year. Don’t stop until you’ve found The Guy.

Or…ah, heck. There’ll never be another guy. Not now that we’re comparing him to Favre. We’ll just have to make do the best we can.

Or…maybe there will be. One legend left us, while another was budding right under our noses. Now that legend is gone, too.

Is there another one? Somewhere? That we don’t even know yet?

Time will tell. Let’s hope it tells soon.