A Brett Favre Breakup Letter

Dear Brett,

I was hoping we would be able to say good bye without it coming to this. I didn't want to write you a letter stained with tears and the sweat of a beer bottle, but you've left me no choice. We've had some great times. I'll give you that, and no one can take those away from us; but I think it's time we both move on. I mean, ownership already cleaned out your locker, so you really shouldn't be stopping by "just to pick up a few things." I know it's rough, but you wanted it this way. I'm just trying to give you what you asked for. Maybe, in a few years, we can meet up for some brats or something, but right now is just too early. I don't want to go through this all over again (and again and again and again and again).

You will always mean a lot to me. I feel like I grew up with you. I remember when John Madden couldn't pronounce your name, and winning nine games felt like a championship year. You always made me laugh with your crazy antics, playing hungover, drawing plays in the dirt, joking with Warren Sapp, and zipping the ball sidearmed. I probably won't see a quarterback like you ever again, and that's why this is so hard for me to write. I know what we had was special. I mean great loves like this only come around once, maybe twice, a generation. I know that, but the truth is I'm trying to move on.

For the last few years, you kind of hinted that you wanted out of this relationship, so I've been preparing myself. I knew this day was coming, especially when the team went 4-12 a couple years ago. Then, at the end of 2006, things started to feel like they did back in the '90s, and last year made me think maybe you should stay on the field forever, even if that meant taking snaps in a wheelchair. I was wrong though.

I let the records, the snow in hi-def against Seattle, and the memories go to my head. I started feeling like it was 1996. I started listening to my heart instead of my brain. I started believing in destiny and happily ever after's again, especially when the temperature was zero degrees against the Giants. I really started thinking we were going to go all the way. Beat the Giants. Beat the Patriots. We were like Antony and Cleopatra, Romeo and Juliet, or Rhett and Scarlet. The thing is, Brett, four of those six people die before their story ends and the other two wind up miserable. We don't want to wind up like those great love affairs, drinking poison and stabbing ourselves. We don't need to put ourselves through anymore overtimes where interceptions bite us like asps held to our breasts.

It's time we move on. You asked for it, and while I didn't like the news at first, I'm really trying to make it work with this Aaron kid now, and in the words of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young: "Do not let the past remind us of what we are not now." Brett, it's just time. Time for us to start new chapters with different characters.

I will always love you Brett, but I'm not in love with you.

Sincerely,
a Packers fan

P.S. At your age, the Madden Curse might kill you, so really, I'm just looking out for your well-being. It's for the better.