Endings are always sad

I just finished watching a Brett Favre press conference. He's starting his 16th year in the league and for the last few years it's been up in the air as to whether or not he would return. Last year, Green Bay had its first losing season in 14 years...or in other words, since Brett Favre took over the quarterback position in 1992. In that time he won three consecutive MVP awards (which had never been done and still hasn't been done), he led the Packers to two Super Bowl apperances (97-98) and won one of them, he broke the record for most consecutive games started by a quarterback, and is 26 touchdown passes away from breaking Dan Marino's career record.

In a weird way Brett Favre has been a fixture in my life for the last 13 years. He's been my favorite player since 1993 and every fall I would watch the Packers play when they were on television. I can remember when they beat Detroit in the play-offs in 93 when Favre threw a 60 yard touchdown pass to Sterling Sharpe to win the game. I can remember on hall-o-ween night in 1994 when all of my friends were going to a party, I stayed home to watch the Bears and Packers on Monday night football. On New Year's Eve of that same year, I stayed home to watch Green Bay shut down Barry Sanders in the first round of the play-offs. I remember Thanksgiving of that year, driving to Lexington to visit my father's parents' graves and carrying a portable/adaptable television in the car so I could watch Dallas and Green Bay. And like so many other times in the early/mid 90's, the Cowboys stomped the Packers. I remember in 1995 (the first year Favre won the MVP) watching Green Bay's first game of the season from a motel room in Arlington, TX because I was watching my other favorite athlete (Will Clark) play baseball that week-end for the Texas Rangers. I can still picture my living room crowded with me and four of my friends in January of 1996 when the Packers dismantled the 49'ers in San Francisisco to make it to the NFC champioship game. I remember that victory was especially sweet because we were all snowed in at my house and hadn't been to school in three days. I can also remember that next week, going to early church to get home in time for the pre-game show for the NFC championship and how disgusted I felt when Dallas, once again, destroyed the Pack. I'm still standing in my living room that summer day in 1996 when Brett Favre addressed the media after coming out of rehab for addiction to pain killers and a struggle with alcohol. I can rememeber my mother commenting to my dad that she wished he would quit drinking, too. And my dad (without a pause) saying, "If you looked his wife, I probably would." I remember that season and a 13-3 record and second MVP for Favre. I remember being congratulated, like I was on the team or something, when the Packers beat Carolina to go to the Super Bowl. All my friends were shaking my hand and patting me on the back because they knew that team and that player were somehow a part of me. I was at a church Super Bowl party (against my wishes) the night Green Bay and Reggie White sacked New England to win back the Lombardi trophy. I spent the entire game by myself upstairs away from everyone else, so I could watch it in peace. And high school was over.

I can still see my dorm room in college in November of 97 when Green Bay was finally getting their revenge against the damn Cowboys. And how I kept putting off going on a blind date that afternoon with my future wife until I was sure the game was out of reach. I can remember Favre butting heads with Warren Sapp and grabbing linebacker's face masks, afraid of nothing. I can see the pass fall short to Chumra to end the chances for a second Super Bowl win. And I'll never forget watching John Elway helicopter into the endzone like a flying horse. They showed that replay too much. In 98, when the team wasn't quite the same, I watched them lose to Detroit on a Thursday night from my bed in my dorm room. Favre threw two picks. They were able to win a wild card slot that year and the day they played their first round game my girlfriend (now my wife) and I watched in horror as Terrell Owens (who had dropped about five balls that day) caught a pass over the middle from Steve Young as time expired, then took a vicsious hit from the Packers' safety, Darren Sharper and still held on to the ball. Game over. Season over. Coach Holmgren to Seattle.

I got engaged the follwing May and the Pack hired Ray Rhodes for one disappointing season. I got married in 2000 and the Pack improved, but not enough, but I still remember Favre throwing a game ending touchdown to Antonio Freeman against the Vikings on Monday night football. No play-offs for the second straight year. A little improvement (and retribution) in 2001 as I started my first real job out of college as a social worker. My partner was a big Redskins fan and the Monday night game after the 9/11 tragedy saw the Packers whip the 'Skins. I had a lot to say the next day at work. I watched Mike McKenzie thwart another T.O. touchdown catch as the Pack won their first play-off game since their Super Bowl season in 97, only to get embarassed by the Super Bowl bound Rams the next week. Favre threw six picks and talked about retiring. A great regular season in 2002 collapsed as Mike Vick and the Falcons walked all over the Pack at Lambeau. I had a paper route that Christmas break and every morning I would get up at 1:30 a.m. and start my route and there was one house with a Packers' flag and I would always know that they would be watching that Saturday night. And they watched Favre get bested by Mike Vick. In 2003, I was working at the same job I have today, teaching school. I put Brett Favre posters and jerseys on the walls in my room/office. That year my dad and I went to St. Louis to watch him play in person for the first time. They lost and Favre broke his finger. I can remember watching MNF that December at my uncle's house with my entire family the night after Favre found out his father died. I still see him hurling the ball like he was trying to physically release his grief and pain. And my family celebrating (even though they weren't Packer fans) and delaying the opening of gifts so we could watch that magical first half. And the next week driving through the Smoky Mountains on the way to the Dixie Stampede with my wife's family, I made her drive so I could watch the game on another portable/adaptable tv. I watched the packers dismantle the Broncos in a game they had to win to make the play-offs while my wife and all of her family made the family picture without me. I remember getting up at least ten times that night and borrowing my sister-in-law's phone to call my dad every ten minutes to get an update on the Vikings' game and the feeling I got when I found out they lost and the Pack were going to play-offs. The next week and the overtime win against Seattle...more calls of congratualtions to me, like I was on the team. And then the next week, in what was the worst experience I've ever had watching a sporting event. Watching Favre throw the ball wildly into the air and seeing it land the arms of an Eagles' safety setting up the game winning field goal. A season that was thought to be destined, pre-arranged, or "heavenly helped" came crashing down. The next year watching the Pack start 1-4 only to come back and win the division on Christmas Eve in Minnesota. And me, having a wreck on the icy roads trying to get to my parents' house to watch the game because my in-laws were in town. And then last year, the first losing season, Favre showing his age, my friend and I driving to Cincinnatti on my birthday only to see Brett throw six picks and Green Bay fall short. And remembering the feeling this past April when he said he's coming back for one more year.

I have always been loyal (probably to a fault) to people I care about, whether I know them or not. They become a part of me and carve a place into a certain time of my life. They are connected to certain places and certain times. So a person who is connected to those places and those times becomes something bigger. They become a representation of something else. And when they leave or fall out of sight then a door shuts on that time they were here. As I was watching Favre's press conference today, it occured to me that I have grown from a child to a man and the whole time sports was a backdrop. Brett Favre and the Packers have been around for milestone achievements in my life: high school, high school graduation, college, engagement, marriage, college graduation, adulthood. I know this sounds like a little much and I don't mean that Brett Favre has been a huge influence in my life because he hasn't. I don't know the man. I do know, though, that the one constant in all of these changes has been Sunday afternoons in the fall. I know that. And if nothing else, it's neat to know that someone you admire is still doing what they were doing when you were barely a teen-ager.

I like things that have beginnings and endings. I guess that's why I'm a school teacher. I like definite book ends on things. That's why I've always been loyal to players and not teams. I will still be a Packers' fan when Brett Favre finally retires. But when his chapter closes, it will be the last common factor that ties certain events in my life together. Beginnings are great because things are new and you don't really know how it's going to turn out, the middle in this case was awesome (two super bowls, three mvp's) and endings are always sad. They just are. If it ends the way it should, it's sad because it's over. If it ends the way it shouldn't, it's sad because it didn't end well. This is the ending and it's sad. "The price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings."