"Classic" Scratchbomb: Brett Favre and the Aw Shucks Method of Getting to Yes

In a complete non-shocker, Brett Favre has unretired.

The Worldwide Leader reacted the way it always reacts to any Favre news, which is to say, batshit insane. ESPN brought its viewers live aerial footage of Brett Favre driving to Vikings training camp. A local hospital was kind enough to let them use a Medivac chopper for this historic event.

But ESPN didn't just show Favre driving to camp. Oh no. They showed us Favre exiting his car. They showed us Favre hugging random people. They showed us Favre climbing stairs.

And when he was finally inside the Vikings facility, out of the reach of helicopters, ESPN brought us extended coverage of the bare stage where he would eventually conduct a press conference, in a room that looked like a high school utility shed.

It was like the most boring student film you ever saw. For a whole day, ESPN abandoned sports news and dedicated itself to Andy Warhol-esque film experiments. ("Next up: Colin Cowherd stars in our remake of Sleep!")

But who are they airing all this garbage for? Packer fans feel betrayed. Vikings fans are unenthused (to say the least). And everyone else is sick to death of this manipulative goober. Even Peter King is a little pissed at getting jerked around by him, and King was Favre's number one jock sniffer as recently as two weeks ago.

There's no point in piling on Favre when the entire world (outside of Bristol, CT) hates him. I pretty much agree with Big Daddy Drew's sentiment: this guy doesn't love football (as all his admirers in the media have gushed over the years), he just loves being the guy on the football field that gets the glory. All the stuff you have to do to attain that glory (watch film, actually attend training camp) is for the other slobs, not superstars like him!

So no more Favre bashing from me--linebackers will be doing enough of that this year. But if you feel like guzzling some Haterade, enjoy this post from just around this time last year, when Favre royally dicked over the Packers for the first time. Original post here.

* * * *

Okay Brett, I've come down here to Hattiesburg to meet with you. I hope we can come to some sort of peace agreement and end this whole unpleasantness.

Unpleasantness? What're you talkin' about? Ain't no unpleasantness out here, Mr. Murphy. I just wanna get out there on the football field and have some fun.

Of course you do. But if you showed up at Packers camp right now, it would just be a huge distraction for everyone involved. We need to decide the future of our relationship and proceed from there.

'Relationship'? That's some pretty fancy talk. Brett Favre don't know from fancy talk. He's just a simple guy who wants to toss the pigskin around and have some fun. Just like in this here advertisementation.

Yes, that was a cute ad. But where do you want to toss the pigskin around? If you don't want to be a Packer, just let us know and we'll work on a trade.

'Trade'? 'Pigskin'? You gotta slow it down for me, perfessor. I didn't go to no fancy book learnin' college like alla y'all.

Yes you did!

Brett Favre don't know nothin' about the finer details of his own past. He just wants to go out there, fling around the old sausage sleeve...

Brett, listen to me. I'm going to ask you a yes or no question. You can only answer this question with a yes or no. You can not answer it by saying you just wanna have fun out there, or that you're looking forward to slinging the ol' pigskin, or that you're just a simple country bumpkin. Do you understand me?

'Course I do, Mr. Murphy. I 'preciate you bein' plain with me. You're a right stand up fella. All Brett wants to do is hurl the ol'...

Bup bup bup! Here is the question: Do you want to play football for the Green Bay Packers this season?

Hold on there, Mr. Murphy. I'm afraid all them 20-dollar words have hurt this ol' bean farmer's puzzler. See, my brain's all filled up with slant patterns and play action fakes and two minute drills and whatnot. I ain't got no more room left for your equations and test tubes and fax machines.

Oh, fuck me. Listen up, you brain dead hick. Maybe this shit works on a worn out corporate husk of a human being like Greta Van Susteren, but not on me. I got a horde of fat fucking cheese-heads burning me in effigy every day because you can't make up your stupid redneck mind. Gimme a straight answer right now or so help me...

Hold on, Mr. Murphy. There's no need for them cuss words. When I was a kid playin' sandlot football and somebody started a-cussin', well, I just took my ball and went on home. In this case, I might be so inclined to take my ball and walk on over to that there Solidier Field. Or how about that there Metrodome? You know, their walls are lined with garbage bags.

There's no way we're trading you to a division rival. Why would we do that?

Well, maybe it's just my simple redneck brainpan misfirin'. But since I've filed my fancy ol' reinstatement papers, that means you got about 48 hours to take me back, trade me, or lemme go. If you take me on, you gotta pay me a big ol' bucket of cash. Twelve million dollars American, or so I'm told. If you lemme go, that makes me a free agent, and I just might go somewheres you don't want me goin'. And if you trade me, you get to go down in Packers history as the man what done traded Green Bay's favoritest player ever.

So you're saying...

I guess a smarter man might could say he's got your ass over a barrel, Mr. Murphy. But what do I know? I'm just a simple country QB, just lookin' to fling some pork rinds.

I must be having the worst training camp in the NFL.
Meanwhile, in Oxnard...