Sunday, January 17, 2010

An open letter to Brett Favre

Dear Brett Favre,

I have hated you since I first heard your name. "Farve." But you don't pronounce it the way it should be pronounced, as documented on "There's Something About Mary." Should be "Fahv," just like the bishop -- Bishop Fabre (Fahb).

I have nothing personal against you for being 40 and playing football still. What I have against you being 40 and still playing is your random forays into retirement. What do you think this is, a real-life version of Ben Folds' "Steven's Last Night in Town?" No one finds that funny. Listen to his lyrics. Retire or play.

You do ads for Wrangler jeans. While there is a funny spoof online of Wrangler's Really Short Jean Shorts that I find hilarious, I have to say your commercials are the lamest. No one plays football in the deep South in jeans during the summer unless he wants heatstroke. You want heatstroke, old man? Go ahead. Be my guest.

And that stubble. Jesus, what's with that stubble? Greying, kinda sparse, always at one particular length....either grow a beard or shave. That's not attractive. You look like you should be in an old Vaudeville act with face paint, patched pants, and a seltzer bottle.

You can't help being from Mississippi any more than I can help being from New Orleans, but Mississippi is 2nd place on my list of states I hate to visit. Texas is first.

You played for Green Bay, which, while I LOVE their cheeseheads, I must say has one of the ugliest team color combos, second only to Denver's Blue and Orange.

For some reason, the Sports media blows off my awesome Drew Brees in favor of riding your jock 24 hours a day. Your team was losing games, the Saints were undefeated, and STILL they called you better than Drew.

And now...your Vikings (I'm sorry, the Minnesota Favres) are coming to OUR house to play OUR boys in the NFC Championship Game. That makes you the enemy, even if you do secretly love the Saints.

But all of those things could, in theory, be forgivable. But go and do this.

And for this, I cannot forgive you. That is not a funny moment in pop culture. Mildly amusing, but not funny. You're too old for American Idol, just like this guy was. We are done. If you ever thought you could make me like you (Especially if, say, you lose to my Saints next week and send them to Miami), you missed your chance. My list of grievances is too long.

Wait...maybe that parenthetical situation COULD be enough to make me move from intense hatred to strong dislike.....

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