The Student News Site of Gannon University since 1947


The Student News Site of Gannon University since 1947


The Student News Site of Gannon University since 1947


Beyoncé is taking on country genre.
Beyoncé is going country
February 23, 2024

Joe Knows

Hello, my name is Joe, and I’ve been a Favreaholic for the last 15 years. I’ve finally resorted to this measure because we’ve simply run out of the drug that is Brett Favre.

It may seem like an irrational infatuation or a misguided man crush, but I worship the old gunslinger. Always have.

Simply put, the league will never be the same without Brett Favre.

It all started when a 5-year-old demon child miraculously heeded his parents’ instructions, and settled down to “just watch TV.” As fate would have it, blaring in the family room that night was Super Bowl XXXI, and starring for the victorious Green Bay Packers was a charismatic, young quarterback who made even the most rowdy toddler take pause.

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And the rest was history, right?

Wrong. Not with Brett Favre.

For the last two decades, Favre has treated not only us loyal devotees to some of the most exciting and enjoyable football ever seen, but also to skeptics and haters alike.

I realize many are afflicted with Favre fatigue. It’s understandable a lot of fans have had their fill of the quarterback’s “waffling.”

But just be prepared for a vague empty feeling on Sundays this fall.

Because when Brett Favre was on the field, we stopped and watched. We knew that when No. 4 had the ball, no lead was safe, and no pass wouldn’t be attempted.

Most of the time he left us shaking our heads in amazement at the seemingly impossible throw he fit between three defenders that no other quarterback dare try, before he raced up and down the sidelines with his hands held high, while sporting that familiar boyish smile. That was Favre.

In some instances, he tried to place a pass in a window that had been locked and shut hours ago. That was Favre.

No matter how you felt about him, the NFL was more fun when Brett Favre played.

And who wouldn’t want that? Because at the end of the day, that’s exactly what the game is—a form of entertainment.

And weren’t we entertained?

My all-time favorite sports memory is compliments of a classic Brett Favre performance.

After his father, Irv, died of a heart attack in 2003, Favre was unsure of whether to play the next day in a Monday night game against the Oakland Raiders. After deliberation, Favre didn’t just play, but had a game that showed NFL fans everywhere a glimpse of the magic that resided in that right arm.

If you can’t tell, I would defend Favre through thick and thin. I would defend his seemingly questionable decision making, both on and off the field, and I would call out anyone who speaks disparagingly about the greatest quarterback to ever live.

Because with the ball in his hands at the end of the game, everyone knew he gave his team a chance to win.

Favre’s former coach Steve Mariucci may have summed Favre’s uncanny ability up best.

“Sometimes it seems like divine intervention. But then you just sit back and say, ‘no it’s just Brett Favre.’”


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