So, Brett Favre has apparently, finally, really, actually, seriously and truly unretired (again) and will be playing with the Minnesota Vikings.
I’m not a football fan, and in fact, when I was a kid I got in trouble multiple times for trying to sneak books into Vikings games. I couldn’t help it. I like to play tennis and badminton and I can get into a basketball, volleyball or hockey game, but there’s just something about football that leaves me completely cold.
Unless my brother was playing, I could never really get into it.
Maybe it’s all the protective gear, which dehumanizes the players enough that if you don’t already know what they’re like, it’s tough to tell. Maybe it’s just that the players seem about ten miles away during a live football game, making it a little tougher to care. Maybe it’s just that I was in pep band long enough to learn to hate the outdoor sport that forced me to sit outdoors in October, numb hands glued to my xylophone mallets.
But this Favre business, this is a big deal to football fans and even gets the attention of people like me, who’d rather not watch a football game but enjoy hearing the good-parts (highlight reels) about the games.
Brett Favre reminds me of something my sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Donner, told me in my Minnesota history class when I was a kid. She said that with wild rice, people love it or hate it, and there’s not usually a lot in between. I’m one of the haters.
I’ve noticed that with Brett Favre, too, people either love the idea of him coming to play for the Vikes, or they hate it. Sometimes they also hate the Packers, Packers fans, Wisconsin, anyone who’s ever said the word "Wisconsin" and cheese.
But with Favre, I’m just ignorant enough of football to not know quite what to think, other than "at least he stopped waffling back and forth."
To me, Favre is like the countless other celebrities who "retire" and then come back the next year, often more than once and often, past their expiration dates.
To sum it all up, then: