Why We Loved Him: A Fan On Brett Favre

Sports are so precious because they are truly meaningless. Your son won’t die today because of a sports score; your daughter won’t get uglier; there will still be whatever chips and dips you bought to stuff your mouth. We love sports because, in the real end-world scheme, they don’t mean a thing. So it is with Brett Favre. Lots of folks with lots of time on their hands compile stat upon stat, trying to come up with meaningful comparisons for who was best when under what circumstances where in what venue against what opponent. Other folks just choose to wallow in sports’ meaningless and, therefore, wallow in the glory of enjoying the moment. Favre gave us those moments. Draped with a Warren Sapp or a John Randall, heave it, Brett, just heave it. Chased by Brian Urlacher or Jason Taylor, just fade, fade, fade across the line of scrimmage and throw across your body. Almost be sacked and do the pigeon-toed run for a first down. Seeing every game, except two, in real time ... (link)