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Saturday, April 08, 2006


Brett Favre=Whiny Bitch?

My parents watch a lot of SportsCenter. When we visit them, the TV in the living room is almost always locked on ESPN and they're getting highlights and scores and such. I should state very clearly right here that this is not a criticism. (Relax, Mom.) My folks like sports and they don't always get to watch the games they want to see because of busy schedules, so they want to catch what they missed. I've watched SportsCenter from time to time, but have never had the devotion to it, say, that I had for Headline News in college. (The decline of Headline News over the last fifteen years is an entire post in and of itself.)

However, in an attempt to be a better fan of the Cleveland Indians, I've been turning SportsCenter on more often this week, usually while I do the dishes. (It also helps me feel a bit less girlie about doing dishes, but that's an entire post in and of itself.)

I had it on this morning as I scrubbed some enchilada sauce-encrusted pots and pans and that's how I happened to see Brett Favre's morning press conference. For anyone who's unaware, Favre, the nigh-legendary quarterback for the NFL's Green Bay Packers has been waffling lately about whether or not to return to the team for the new season. There's been a lot of speculation about this lately, with pundits questioning whether his displeasure with the team's performance in recent years would lead him to retire or if the Green Bay management would take his indecision as a hint to spend money on some name-brand talent in order to entice Favre to stick around. Favre called a press conference this morning and most folks thought he'd be announcing his decision.

I should say right here that I don't give a fuck about Green Bay and was annoyed that SportsCenter was taking time out of their baseball recaps to cover something so inconsequential. I was annoyed even more because Favre didn't alert the media in order to end the speculation and say what he was doing one way or another. No, he sat in front of a bunch of cameras and microphones to tell the nation that he hadn't made his mind up yet.

He got reporters out of bed early to drop broad hints that he wanted Packers management to get some more talented people on the team in order to "make a statement to the league." He also chastised the press for getting on his case about not being able to make up his fucking mind. Boo-hoo, Brett. Boo-skippity-fucking-hoo.

Is there anyone, any non-retarded adult, in the country who feels sorry for a multi-millionaire who gets to throw a ball around for a living, just because his bosses won't do exactly what he wants? Yeah, life's tough, Brett. How's that H3 working out for you?

I'm going to propose right here and now a constitutional amendment. I think it should be right up there below the Bill of Rights. Professional athletes are not fucking allowed to bitch about anything. Anything. If you get paid more than the entire population of Erie, Pennsylvania makes in a year to run up and down a field, court or track, then you need to shut up and be grateful that you don't have to do any real work. If someone in your family dies, you are allowed to be sad. If your teammates can't deal with you coming out of the closet, then you may be indignant. But that's about it. You officially have nothing else to gripe about.

The sport's rough on your body? So what. You can hire five homeless guys to carry you around. You have the pressure of fan expectations? Big deal. Try working the lunch rush at Hardees. The fame is too much and you just want some privacy? Tough shit. Stop crying and give me the autograph you're charging me twenty bucks for.

I realize athletes aren't the only ones who act like this. Actors and musicians who have entire department stores closed so they can shop in private should be loaded onto a catapult and shot into a brick wall, too. But athletes just seem to have more of a sense of entitlement. "Hey, you can't jail me for fucking that fourteen-year-old! I've got the play-offs coming up!" Wrong, dick! Just because you can lift a fucking VW Microbus above your head does not mean that society owes you.

And so I say to Mr. Favre: make up your fucking mind. Either accept an obscene amount of money to play for another year or accept an obscene amount of money to become an analyst for FOX Sports. But don't make me listen to you whine about it any more.

Hello, this is Albert (Brian), Megan's co-worker. We met at Whitehorse a few Friday's ago after work. She directed me to your site. Funny stuff! Keep it up! (PS - I think Jevon Walker echoes your sentiments...)
How's that H3 working out for you?

Ouch. As Paul Giamatti said in Cinderella Man: "Pop, pop - bam!"
I bet if you spent a few minutes (an hour tops) hunting around online, you could find out where to send Favre fan mail. You should send him this, just to piss him off...or, more realistically, just to piss of his "people" who read his mail for him.
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