You know the guy.

You’re at a bar, you get your drink from the tender and turn to go back to your table and all of a sudden you notice something.  Two somethings.

Shh! I think I hear a motorboat coming...

And then a fraction of a second later this guy is all up in your face - “Were you looking at my girl’s tits?!”

“I’m gonna kick your ass! You were looking at her tits weren’t you?!”

Thankfully, his friends are able to lock arms with him and let a little air out of his hubris while they drag him and his pearl necklace maker girlfriend back to their seats. But the dude just can’t let it go. All night, in the lull between every song you can hear the guy from across the bar jawing about how he can’t believe you were looking at the two dirigibles that were blotting out the sun when you noticed them.

Dude swears he’s gonna get you for it. Follow you home if he has to.  Or if not today, then tomorrow. Or a month from now. Or a year from now.

He’ll get tattoos on his knuckles like Uncle Leo just so that the anger will stay fresh in his mind. Forever.

Grudge much, Brett?

He just can’t let it go. Ever.

Kinda like Brett Favre.

Sweeping aside for the moment the weepy retirement and unretirement a few months later that put him in this situation to begin with, Brett Favre is like that guy at the bar. Brett Favre has played in about 300 professional football games in his career, but for the chance to play just two games against his former team, all to exact vengeance on one guy (Ted Thompson, who not-so-coincidentally would not even be on the football field during the games), he was willing to move cross-country and play for the Jets for an entire year, in the hopes he could work that into a second retirement, and then come back to the NFC North.

Then he partially tore a biceps tendon. And Brett Favre and surgery? Not the best of friends. Enemies, really - in the kind of way like you’re scared shitless of that bully down the street who told you he was going to meet you behind the pine trees after school.

But for the chance to get back at that one guy who cut him loose, and play two games against the Packers (and alienate the hundreds of thousands of fans who’ve supported him over the years), recent reports from the Worldwide Leader in Misinformation indicate Favre is willing to go under the knife.  Willing to go through months of training camp.  Willing to put his aging and slowly fracturing body up for 4+ more months of punishment, all for 6 hours on the playing field.  And to show what?  That Ted Thompson made a mistake in not re-working the entire 53-man roster because Brett had a change of heart back in ‘08?

Seriously, Brett - grudge much?  Those anger management courses working out for you?  In the Trojan War, at least there was some muff involved.  Rain Man was more mellow about Wapner at 4:30 than Favre is about beating Ted’s Packers.

When I’m in the observation lounge in the John Hancock building in Chicago, you can’t get me within 10 feet of the windows, no matter how many Grey Goose’s I’ve had. Just can’t do it. I’ll chew yer fucking hand off before I let it pull me to the handrails along the perimeter of that suicide launch pad.

And if you’re my enemy?  I still won’t step fucking near the edge.  My well being ranks way above any feelings I might have for you.  You’re just a dick who doesn’t like cool people.  That sounds like your problem, not mine.

Yaknow?  Maybe Brett could learn a few things from me.

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