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Favre looks like his old self again
By MITCH ALBOM
Detroit Free-Press
Posted: Sept. 24, 2006
Detroit - He'll be 37 in a few weeks, and his army haircut and grizzled whiskers now look as if they're dusted with snow. But if Sunday was the last glimpse Detroit will get of Brett Lorenzo Favre, it was not the portrait of a creaky old man. Favre was every magical thing he ever has been over the years against the Lions, throwing three touchdowns, scrambling out of trouble, leaving the field with a sack full of yards, embarrassed defensive backs, and, oh, yes, a victory.
So here's a salute to the quarterback's quarterback. Long after Sunday is forgotten as another blown Detroit opportunity, Favre's performance will be remembered. This was his first victory of what is surely his last season, the 20th time in 29 tries that he has beaten the Lions. Afterward, in the cramped visitors' locker room, he grinned like a proud papa. He pulled on a striped, short-sleeved polo shirt that looked as if he might have worn it to his college English class, then joked with a younger, more stylish teammate, "If you've got a shirt like this, you're in trouble."
He poked a can of antiperspirant under each armpit, gave a few sprays, pulled on his jeans and work boots, then went to talk to the media. His slow gait and weathered face suggested Dennis Quaid in the film "Everybody's All-American" - only Favre looked happy.
A few hours earlier, in the first quarter, he'd completed a 75-yard catch-and run touchdown pass to rookie Greg Jennings. Favre ran all the way down the field, jumping and fist-pumping as if it were his first game.
"Do you still celebrate like a kid out there?" Favre was asked.
"I do, but I gotta stop," he said. "I get too tired."
Well, that was the only time he seemed fatigued. Favre, as his coaches have said, may not be able to throw the ball through the wall anymore, but he still can dent it.
And he certainly can finesse it. Several times Sunday, when he wasn't whipping passes to 10 receivers, he floated them feather-like into their hands. Another time, he moved the pocket, waited, waited, then rifled a bullet into the end zone. Touchdown.
Favre finished with 340 yards, no sacks, 25-for-36 and a quarterback rating that would let him teach at Hogwarts. He has more victories against the Lions than any other franchise and he has never lost to them in Green Bay.
"I didn't even know that," he said. "But . . . today, nothing else matters. I've played in a lot of big games and have grown to appreciate wins, period."
Every season, Lions fans watch with smoldering envy as Favre embodies all the things Detroit quarterbacks seem to lack: savvy, control, creativity and yank-by-the-facemask leadership. It's hard to count how many Lions quarterbacks have taken snaps since Favre began his consecutive game starting streak in 1992.
But no one in silver-and-blue has come close to the man in green.
"That cat," Detroit defensive end Kalimba Edwards told reporters, "is going to the Hall of Fame. . . . He's still as good as he was."
And, remember, this is a guy only one college wanted, a guy Atlanta traded for a draft pick and a guy who often plays best under the most dire of circumstances (remember his Monday night masterpiece the day after his father died?).
Brett Favre has been around so long, he should be photographed in sepia. And yet after his news conference, he walked through the tunnels and asked an AP reporter, "Is there anything to eat around here?"
You mean besides our team?
There goes Brett Favre, the best quarterback we're likely to see in a long, long time. Sunday was no fun. But it was undeniably fitting. And even the Lions should wipe the blood from their lips long enough to raise a hand in salute.
Mitch Albom is a columnist for the Detroit Free Press.
From the Sept. 25, 2006 editions of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
Favre looks like his old self again
By MITCH ALBOM
Detroit Free-Press
Posted: Sept. 24, 2006
Detroit - He'll be 37 in a few weeks, and his army haircut and grizzled whiskers now look as if they're dusted with snow. But if Sunday was the last glimpse Detroit will get of Brett Lorenzo Favre, it was not the portrait of a creaky old man. Favre was every magical thing he ever has been over the years against the Lions, throwing three touchdowns, scrambling out of trouble, leaving the field with a sack full of yards, embarrassed defensive backs, and, oh, yes, a victory.
So here's a salute to the quarterback's quarterback. Long after Sunday is forgotten as another blown Detroit opportunity, Favre's performance will be remembered. This was his first victory of what is surely his last season, the 20th time in 29 tries that he has beaten the Lions. Afterward, in the cramped visitors' locker room, he grinned like a proud papa. He pulled on a striped, short-sleeved polo shirt that looked as if he might have worn it to his college English class, then joked with a younger, more stylish teammate, "If you've got a shirt like this, you're in trouble."
He poked a can of antiperspirant under each armpit, gave a few sprays, pulled on his jeans and work boots, then went to talk to the media. His slow gait and weathered face suggested Dennis Quaid in the film "Everybody's All-American" - only Favre looked happy.
A few hours earlier, in the first quarter, he'd completed a 75-yard catch-and run touchdown pass to rookie Greg Jennings. Favre ran all the way down the field, jumping and fist-pumping as if it were his first game.
"Do you still celebrate like a kid out there?" Favre was asked.
"I do, but I gotta stop," he said. "I get too tired."
Well, that was the only time he seemed fatigued. Favre, as his coaches have said, may not be able to throw the ball through the wall anymore, but he still can dent it.
And he certainly can finesse it. Several times Sunday, when he wasn't whipping passes to 10 receivers, he floated them feather-like into their hands. Another time, he moved the pocket, waited, waited, then rifled a bullet into the end zone. Touchdown.
Favre finished with 340 yards, no sacks, 25-for-36 and a quarterback rating that would let him teach at Hogwarts. He has more victories against the Lions than any other franchise and he has never lost to them in Green Bay.
"I didn't even know that," he said. "But . . . today, nothing else matters. I've played in a lot of big games and have grown to appreciate wins, period."
Every season, Lions fans watch with smoldering envy as Favre embodies all the things Detroit quarterbacks seem to lack: savvy, control, creativity and yank-by-the-facemask leadership. It's hard to count how many Lions quarterbacks have taken snaps since Favre began his consecutive game starting streak in 1992.
But no one in silver-and-blue has come close to the man in green.
"That cat," Detroit defensive end Kalimba Edwards told reporters, "is going to the Hall of Fame. . . . He's still as good as he was."
And, remember, this is a guy only one college wanted, a guy Atlanta traded for a draft pick and a guy who often plays best under the most dire of circumstances (remember his Monday night masterpiece the day after his father died?).
Brett Favre has been around so long, he should be photographed in sepia. And yet after his news conference, he walked through the tunnels and asked an AP reporter, "Is there anything to eat around here?"
You mean besides our team?
There goes Brett Favre, the best quarterback we're likely to see in a long, long time. Sunday was no fun. But it was undeniably fitting. And even the Lions should wipe the blood from their lips long enough to raise a hand in salute.
Mitch Albom is a columnist for the Detroit Free Press.
From the Sept. 25, 2006 editions of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
I'm loving Brett this year. I have him in all my leagues that don't penalize for ints, but yesterday it wouldn't have even mattered. The guy can still sling it, and when he's feeling the flow, he's still tremendous.
You're a fan of the game... I'm the same way. Regardless of being division rivals, I've always appreciated and cheerished every moment I was able to see of Sweetness. The Legends of this game will always get my respect.
Nauseating. Albom is atrocious.