I’m sorry.

I know it’s unusual for an author to begin with an apology, but in this case it is imperative that I begin foremost with a sincere one due to the graphic content of the ensuing post. I wanted to be discussing the amazing draft the Packers just had, collecting not one but two starters for their new 3-4 defense. I wanted to question whether or not the Packers should have passed on Michael Crabtree, arguably the single best talent in the draft (answer: yes). I might have even wanted to touch upon the Packers signing a punter from my alma mater or the somewhat surprising release of special teams standout Tracy Hunter. Instead, I am forced to present this disclaimer: the following paragraphs are dedicated to Brett Favre.

I’m sorry, again.

We’re all sick of it. He had us dancing two years ago with retirement talk, then he tangoed his way to an NFC Championship game. We heard the same whispers the summer after the Ghost of Brett Favre Past couldn’t quite handle frigid Wisconsin temperatures in a game in which Eli Manning (!) and Plaxico Burress (! with a bullet) advanced to a Super Bowl.

Ted Thompson and Mike McCarthy did the hard but correct thing in cutting him and advancing their pet project, Aaron Rodgers, to the starting lineup. Favre meandered to the swamps of New Jersey and had a hot start before falling flat in the last half of the season. The interminable gunslinger was felled by a mortal injury: a busted biceps tendon. Rodgers, meanwhile, struggled through a 6-10 season but passed for over 4,000 yards.

Fast-forward to the 2009 NFL draft. The Jets give up three players and several draft picks to the Browns for the right to select Mark Sanchez with the 5th overall pick. Favre’s departure was a foregone conclusion after his surprisingly quiet retirement in February.

Just like the Terminator, you can’t…quite…kill…Brett Favre.

Ed Werder of ESPN is reporting that Favre wants to sit down with everyone’s favorite elementary school teacher/NFL coach Brad Childress to discuss playing for the Vikings next season. Three things immediately jump out at me from this potential summer blockbuster:

I. The Vikings wouldn’t be solving their QB issues by signing Favre. He’d be, at best, a one-year fix, and in 2010 they’d have no further clue whether or not Tarvaris Jackson is their leader of the future, if Sage Rosenfels was worth trading for, or if John David Booty is a more appropriate name for a porn star or a pirate. Favre will no doubt show off his cannon arm and he’ll enjoy the services of the incomparable Adrian Peterson. He’ll also toss up about eighteen to twenty-two gifts for the other team next year if he plays. Wait a second, why would I be against this? Forget what I said, Minnesota. Favre is clearly the best option.

II. Favre would be renouncing his legendary status in Green Bay. Superstars, from time to time, will outlive their usefulness on the team that made them superstars. Emmitt Smith looked weird as an Arizona Cardinal. Michael Jordan was an absurd Wizard. Sometimes it works (see: Montana, Joe or Bourque, Raymond) but usually it’s just awkward. This would go beyond awkward. This is Johnny Damon-leaving-the-Sox-for-the-freaking-Yanks in ‘05 sort of drama, only bigger. Damon was just one of the many Idiots that helped the Sox reverse the curse. Favre was THE franchise figure for over a decade and for fans under the age of 40, THE defining person for an incredibly historic team. By joining the Vikings, he’d be voluntarily giving up on a fanbase that showered him with hagiographic adulation, even during seasons where he didn’t deserve it. He’s a first-ballot Hall of Famer. He’s given Green Bay its only Super Bowl win since the 60’s. But if we see Number Four in purple and yellow this September, he’ll immediately cease to be the hero of the Packers.

III. Nobody really cares anymore. Most people have reached a sort of Roger Clemens-esque inertia regarding anything Favre-like from the media. It’s enough to have John Madden and Peter King fawning over Favre (by the way, it’s been a pleasure, Mr. Madden, and we will genuinely miss your passion for the game come Monday nights). Now we have to sit through another summer of will-he won’t-he shenanigans. It’s bad (like, really bad) that Hollywood has greenlit both a G.I. Joe movie and a sequel to the abysmal Transformers movie. Make way for a silly flick about a gunslinger who torches the bridges of his humble pueblo and teams up with the bad guys for a pouch of gold. The third chapter in this sad trilogy will only end in tragedy, not triumph, for Mr. Favre.