December 24, 2010
There was one question this week and here it is…
Question for Friday: why foes Brett Favre look like he’s crying always?
Well, Brett has deep-set eyes that slope downward on the sides. Brett Favre was also freezing Monday night in a ton of pain playing arguably the most violent sport on the planet during a year that has brought him more criticism than praise on a team that is losing every which way they can in what could be his last season playing the game he loves more than anything else in life.
Maybe Brett Favre was tearing up thinking about how his co-star from There’s Something About Mary Cameron Diaz has completely shit the bed in her acting career.
Maybe Brett Favre was watching Up in the locker room on his iPhone and shit just got real emotional.
Maybe Brett Favre was thinking about the economy and how severely it has hit the mid-west and it is closing on Christmas time and how many children and their families will need to rely on the kindness of others through charitable donations to have that American Christmas experience.
Maybe Brett Favre was thinking about the Summers of his youth in Mississippi and the heat of the Sun on his bare neck turning it a darker shade of rose as he throws a football in the backyard with his father, Big Irv.
Maybe Brett Favre was stung by an African bee that are always rumored to take over the US through Mexico at some point and it is just Brett’s luck that one mythical black and yellow plunged its stinger in his forearm.
Maybe Brett Favre was running through his head his own highlight reel of throwing 507 touchdowns in the National Football League and thinking that each and every one of those passes and 6 points were more exhilarating than sex.
Maybe Brett Favre was thinking about all the sex he has had over the years with his beautiful wife, Deanna Favre.
Maybe Brett Favre was thinking about when he lost his virginity in a pair of Wranglers in the front seat of a pick-up truck hidden in the corn fields owned by Old Man Guthrie and how nervous he was when Becky Sue loosened his jeans and Brett was more jittery for this than any football game he had ever played in, which made him instinctively hear his father Big Irv’s booming voice in his head coaching him through this sexual journey, but all that came* to a grinding halt when Becky Sue’s creamy smooth and surprisingly experienced hand grabbed hold of Brett’s little Packer and he burst outward and upward all over the inside of the windshield.
Maybe Brett Favre was thinking about how ten minutes after Becky Sue’s fastest handjob in the world he collected himself and gave that cornfed southern gal a 60 minute performance much like one of his Monday Night Football games.
Maybe Brett Favre was thinking about how people keep saying he has a nothing special penis even though his hands are ginormous meaning his penis could be big and who cares because no one is saying whether or not Peyton Manning has a small penis.
Maybe Brett Favre was listening to Seal minutes earlier because one of his black gentlemanly teammates had Seal playing on their stereo in the locker room and it can get emotional listening to Seal.
Maybe Brett Favre just sees the beauty in all things and it is so wonderful it makes his heart hurt.
Maybe Brett Favre was asked another question about Jenn Sterger and he started thinking about how amazing it would have been to have had sex with her or to have at least gotten the video of her masturbating that he seemingly asked for.
Maybe Brett Favre could smell the beer in the stadium and thought back about how fun it was to be drunk and young.
Maybe Brett Favre was tearing up because he’s old and old men tend to do that out of nowhere and it is awkward.
Maybe Brett Favre was talking to Devin Hester on the Chicago Bears and they were laughing so hard they were crying about that post on KSWI about when Devin Hester was pantsed last season playing the Eagles and his black ass was all over America’s living rooms.
Maybe Brett Favre and Devin Hester were both sad that the commenters on KSWI are so mean to its delightful writer and wished they had the time and courage to comment and give that writer encouragement, but they are afraid of the wrath of these commenters because they have declared that comments section theirs and you do not mess with a woman or a pack of them when they have their claws in something.
Maybe Brett Favre was so cold his testicles had retreated inside his body and he was worried they would never come out.
Maybe Brett Favre was thinking about the 71,000+ yards he has thrown for in the NFL and how he would Christmas wish more than anything to be able to do that again.
Maybe Brett Favre knows that his time in the NFL is over and that the cynicism of the present is making him feel emo because people should give him one of the greatest sendoffs in the history of sports, but he’ll need to wait until people sober up and realize it instead of focusing on a couple stupid things he did at the end of his career and not the scope of his career, which has been one of the most spectacular joyful things to watch ever.
Maybe Brett Favre stubbed his toe. It happens.
Maybe Brett Favre saw the portly Matt Millen smiling and his girth plus his jolliness made Brett think of Santa Claus and either how much he misses having that innocence to believe in Santa Claus or how perfect Matt Millen would be as Santa Claus and how many people he could bring a holiday cheer to dressed as Santa.
Maybe Brett Favre has seasonal depression like many in America and he is too conservative to go to a psychiatrist and get a prescription for a happy pill for this dark, cold and gloomy months.
Maybe Brett Favre has the ability to read minds and people were saying a lot of awful weird shit to themselves in their brains about him and he doesn’t tell anyone about this power in fear that people will try to exploit it for their own personal gains.
Maybe Brett Favre was thinking about puppies – that sometimes leads to tears.
Maybe Brett Favre did not look like he was crying and the network’s graphics guy did some CGI to make it look like Brett Favre was crying because he is an asshole.
Maybe Brett Favre just loves football, Christmas, holidays, people, being out on the field, the cutting pain of breathing frozen air, the butterflies in his stomach making him feel young again, the numbness in his aching muscles from the arctic temperature, the adrenaline in his fingertips, the feeling of a new leather football in his hands, the motion of throwing that ball after over a week of not throwing one, seeing 50,000 young Minnesotans screaming their heads off sitting in snow, being on TV, having 10 guys look to him for leadership in the huddle, fresh peanut butter cookies which he planned on eating as a treat after the game, the high he gets from a pain killer shot before the game, the smell of lavender wafting off his injured running back Adrian Peterson, winning and touchdowns – and maybe all that together made him tear up for a moment.
Or maybe he wasn’t crying and like I said he is old and it was cold and his eyes are deep-set and he just looked sad because it was fucking freezing in the outdoor University of Minnesota stadium.
Either way, he smiles like an idiot when he scores a touchdown and that’s how he should be remembered.
I hope he comes back next year.
I hope he has a great Christmas.
I hope you all have a great Christmas.
I hope you all have a great weekend.