You can find part 2 of Quarterback Autopsy here and part 1 here.

If you read this blog regularly (hello there!), you know I’ve not been kind in my opinion of Brett Favre’s moves off the field that when paired with McCarthy and Thompson, led to the grotesquity, vulgarishness, and general bombasticity that is the new quarterback corps for the New York Jets. And frankly, just about every vein of interesting content has been hit enough times to collapse even the arterial system of Nikki Six.

But like any good junkie, I’ve found a few more veins to puncture. I’ll give you these few thoughts, then I’m entering Brett Favre rehab. No intervention needed. I swear it’s going to work this time. So here we go.

How long do you have to have your butt cheeks glazed in chapstick before you come to expect a weekly waxing? When Holmgren was coach, if Favre made a bad read, bad throw, ran past the line of scrimmage and then threw the ball (how many times did that happen in the early years?) or anything else that resulted in a change of possession, you knew Favre was going to be going grill-to-grill with Holmgren while the coach made things a little more clear. But not with Sherman. For the six years Mike Sherman was coach (2000-2005 seasons), I think Brett probably walked around with ass cheeks at high sheen and farts that smelled like strawberries, thanks to Mike Sherman’s approach to coaching him. I’m not sure I ever saw him criticize Favre on the sidelines. Either Sherman was afraid to wrangle ownership of the play of Favre away from the 3-time MVP, or he had so much respect for him that he didn’t feel right being his coach. Like coaching Bruce Lee in Kung Fu. Sherman gushed over Favre. Gave Favre game balls. Turned away like a woman who knows her husband’s screwing the babysitter when Favre threw interceptions. Just too painful to face the facts, I suppose.

So when the new regime came to town, of course Brett didn’t like it. Gone were the Fatheads of Brett Favre from the head coach’s office walls. His butt cheeks were now chafing with frightening regularity. Brett was going to be 1 of 53 again, and he didn’t like it.

And I’ve already expressed my opinion about Favre taking advice from too many women. If the decisions you make about your football career are based primarily on the opinions of people that have never played a down of football and also wear vaginas, you need to get yourself a new set of consultants.

Doing Greta was a huge mistake (no matter how you slice that statement, you know I’m right). Not that it impacted the final outcome, but it did change a lot of opinions of Packer fans, mainly for the worse. The scattershot logic and me-centric explanations made Favre sound like a southern Michelle Wie.

And contrary to the drive-by commenters from a few weeks ago, I don’t hate Favre. I still like him, and I wish him success in New York. I’m willing to bet a fair amount of fans in Wisconsin feel the same way, and that train cars of Jets swag ends up in Wisconsin this year, just because people still love to watch him play. But just like I can’t wear my WWMGD bracelet anymore, I can’t hold Favre in the same regard that I did before this mess. He’s just not who I thought he was. And I can’t let him off the hook for it.

That should about do it for the Brett Favre talk. Oh, except for the Win a Brett Favre Jersey contest I’ll be announcing in the next day or two. No chit.

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