A Brett Favre Breakup Letter, Part 9 (Green Bay Update)

Dear Favre (notice how we're no longer on a first name basis),

Could you please refrain from throwing 6 touchdown passes when I'm trying to watch my new boy Aaron battle through a shoulder injury in the fourth quarter? I think it's pretty immature on your part to upstage Aaron on the sports ticker, just cause you know I might happen to see the highlights and think what if. I mean, he's testing out his arm, to see if he can still go, and you're devouring Cardinals like birds sucked into the engine of a 747. I think you owe Aaron an apology. I think you owe the birds you killed an apology, and while you're at it, maybe you could send Aaron a text explaining how to play through the pain.

Also, next time I get you on the phone, could you speak with Ryan Grant. He's just not the same without you. He's running with his tail between his legs, and he's not eating. I think he might perk up at the sound of your voice.

Well, as good as you looked Sunday, those Jets throwback uniforms are hideous, and the regular green and white make you look old and a tad fat. I thought you should know.

I also thought you should know I'm alright without you. I've been working out, reading literature, and getting into some new music cause I have a new life now, without you. Let's call it my renaissance, so don't take this letter as a sign I want you back or anything; I don't, and unlike Humpty Dumpty, Al Harris' spleen and AJ Hawk's groin will both be put back together again. We, on the other hand, are Humpty Dumpty's shell and all the king's men will never put us back together again, and if they did, then I would push you off the wall, that's how indifferent I am to your existence. I am so indifferent I will send you plummeting to your death.

Sincerely,
a Packers fan

PS I thought you should also know that for the first time in my fantasy football career you're not on my team, so even in my dreams, your actions are of little consequence to me, and whoever has you on their team didn't start you because they know I'd push them off a wall too...seriously, SIX FREAKIN' TOUCHDOWNS, BRETT?!?!?!? How could you do this to me? Your locker isn't even cold yet.