Nothing can get between two guys faster than a woman. We’ve all been there; we’ve all seen friendships that survived wars torn asunder by a skirt. Earlier in the week, reports began surfacing about a rift in the Vikings’ locker room. It seems that some members of the team are sticking by Tarvaris Jackson as the preferred starter for the team; meanwhile there is another faction believing Sage Rosenfels should be the man taking the snaps.
Things got even better when a reporter used the term “schism” to describe the situation. Enter Purple Poet Laureate Jared Allen.
Among those trying their hand at rumor quashing, Jared Allen had easily the most bizarrely humorous take of all, telling ESPN, “I don’t think anyone on this team knows what “schism” is, let alone could use it in a sentence. I thought it was a sexually transmitted disease when I first heard it and I was like ‘whoa, we preach abstinence in these parts.’
Ok, humor aside, this situation needs a breakdown. First of all, let’s make something absolutely clear. Ten years ago, you would have been hard pressed to find a bigger Brett Favre fan than me. Not only was he clearly the best quarterback in the league, he did it in a way that would have made the “old-school” football guys proud, kind of a “Bobby Layne meets Art Donovan” type. He never showed a primadonna attitude; on old-school dude more line a lineman in a quarterback’s body. But over the last two years, Favre has been selfish, petulant, and worse yet, ineffective on the field. But of all the things Favre is doing to make me hate him, none is more inexcusable than creating divisions amongst his new teammates.
Pro Football Talk has posted a tale of an emerging clash within the Purple ranks. Allegedly, a “faction” of players continues to back quarterback Tarvaris Jackson and resent the fact King Brett I blew into town after training camp to ascend his throne at the expense of a man they consider a younger, more talented player.
Is Jackson younger than Favre? Well, Methuselah is younger than King Brett I. Is Jackson more talented than Favre? At this point, that is at least debatable.
Now, it may seem to be a bit of mystery to some as to why anyone would be so adamant to defend Tarvaris Jackson? It could be just locker-room scuttlebutt that found its way into print.
Or it could be that somebody at Winter Park remembers that in 1991 King Brett I was also a raw young quarterback from a small southern school; a player with all the athletic ability one could want, but just didn’t make good decisions with the football. Perhaps somebody realizes that Favre became the King once he was properly coached, and the same could be true of T-Jack.
Or it could be that King Brett I blew off training camp, and arrived in town on the team owner’s private jet, and was chauffered to practice by the fucking head coach after doing nothing to prove his worth to the team. Gee, it’s hard to see why any other players who sweated their asses off in training camp might harbor a bit of resentment. Even if they had doubts about his on-the-field abilities, at least Tarvaris Jackson had his ass in camp.
Honestly, I’ve been waiting for somebody to make a race issue out of it (Stephen A. Smith, I’m looking at you, asshole). Thankfully, we have another “journalist” to cast this in another light; ESPN moron-du-jour Scoop Jackson actually is speculating what the King Brett I saga would be like if he were Queen Brett I.
Now, I have to give credit where it is due. Normally, Scoop Jackson’s work would need significant improvement to be worthy of lining the bottom of bird cages. But, proving that occasionally even a blind squirrel can find an acorn, he couldn’t be more accurate is dead on here; Favre may actually indeed be a woman…
If he were a woman…
He’d be dumped by now. Straight dismissed. Labeled an indecisive diva. A supermodel with issues.
If he were a woman there would be no way we’d love him like we do Charlize Theron or Sanaa Lathan. It’d be more like the love we have for Liz Taylor, Drew Barrymore or Madonna. Serial love.
If he were a woman, he’d be one glorious bastard. He’d create collateral damage that would take years for men (in reality, teams) to recover from. He’d leave them vowing to never mess with another “woman” like that again.
If he were a woman, he wouldn’t be able to get away with this and still be respected, because this is not the behavior of respectable ladies. Bouncing around from man to man.
So I ask: If Brett Favre were a woman … would you date her?
There are too many suitcases, too much luggage. Excessive baggage, albeit Vuitton.
He’s high-maintenance in its highest form. He’s a high-priced call guy. Julia Roberts played that role and became a star.
But in Favre, you wouldn’t find any of the things you’d look for in a serious relationship. Not the redeeming social qualities. Not the respect for others (or the game). Not the “I’ma introduce you to my moms and keep you away from my friends” type of stuff.
He’s about him, and for him there’s nothing wrong with that. Because what has to be taken into consideration is that we’ve allowed this to happen. We’ve allowed Favre to become who he’s become.
We’ve all played a role. The NFL has allowed it because it allowed him to play the game (and play the league) by his own rules. We the media have allowed it because we’ve never overwhelmingly called him out for putting himself above the game.
Remember Meryl Streep’s character, Miranda Priestly? That’s him. The devil wears purple.
But being special allows this behavior to manifest. It’s no different than the perks that come with being extremely attractive or filthy rich. With being Paris Hilton.
If he were a woman … you’d want him to be slicker about it. More conniving, more deceiving. Crafty like a Beastie girl. Not so up-front about who she is. You’d want her to have some pride in herself. Not be so eager to present herself as promiscuous. The waffling and indecision. The pathological inability to stay true to her word. The vanity of knowing — and acting and believing — that the world revolves around her.
Would you really put up with that in a relationship? From a significant — or even insignificant — other?
Now, we’ve all met women like this. They can be the most beautiful female this side of Samantha Buxton, but we will still think three times or come to the irreversible conclusion that dating someone like her isn’t worth it. The headaches, the attitudes, the “it’s my prerogative to change my mind any damn time I want” philosophy, the prima donna behavior that overrides the benefits of being seen with her.
Take the story of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of ungodly beauty that rendered her irresistible to gods and mortals. She was married off to Hephaestus by Zeus, only to have an affair with Ares. Once the affair was exposed (Ares and Aphrodite were caught naked in a trap laid by Hephaestus) gods such as Apollo and Hermes claimed that they wouldn’t have any problem being caught in a trap with such a beautiful goddess. Then Poseidon expressed interest. Then Dionysus. She’d eventually sleep with all of them. Then Zeus, after being tempted by Aphrodite, punished her for being a freakazoid by making her fall in love with Anchises, the mortal Trojan prince. They ended up having a child, Aeneas. Then Adonis, the handsome young boy toy of gods, came along. With him, Aphrodite gave the first-ever meaning to the term “cougar.”
Now, who among us would date Aphrodite? Or better yet, Pamela Anderson Lee? Not go on a date. I’m talking “date” with intentions of building a serious and substantial relationship. Thank goodness Favre is one of the greatest players in NFL history. Because if he were that woman, we’d be left to answer the one unasked question in Greek mythology of the men who “dated” Aphrodite: Was it worth it?
It is a bit humbling to have a hack like the Scoop-ster be the one to point out the blatantly-fucking-obvious. Forget that Scoop must have found a copy of Greek Mythology for Dummies; King Brett I has a vagina. The indecision, the “me-first-always” attitude, the bun-hugger Wrangler jeans – all the signs are there.
It gets worse. Have you ever noticed how King Brett I treats former coaches and general managers? He’s the vindictive ex-girlfriend; the one who tells the whole world about your erectile dysfunction. Current coaches fare little better. In New York, the relationship between Favre and Eric Mangini was little better than a terrible blind date. Now, she has Brad Childress driving her around and baby-sitting her dog while she fucks all his friends.
And after all that, she’s just going to go marry John Madden anyway.
Seriously, how did we all miss this?