Several Sundays ago, I reflected at length on the point of diminishing returns common to the expanding world of American professional sports, and while the season has largely managed to slip past our household unawares, only a true hermit could be oblivious to the cascading news reports of disturbing concussion research, a brutal body count as starting players fall to the wayside with season-ending injuries, and the ugly display of an aging quarterback stumbling under the spotlight as equally ugly news of unwanted naughty sex texts surfaced. There may indeed be something noble in the spectacle of an athlete past his prime valiantly struggling to stay upright and ward off a vicious defense. But the concept of nobility has clearly left the building when said athlete skips training camp, fires off endless interceptions, and gets busted sending shaky photos of his limp manhood while sprawled on a bed wearing Crocs.
One suspects that Brett wasn't quite ready for the big wide world when he tossed off a sneer in Green Bay's direction and decamped for New York, or at least he wasn't prepared to find available admiring ladies in much shorter supply than he was used to in the cozy environs of Brown County. I don't for one second believe that Favre's texting misadventures with Jenn "Gameday Host" Sterger during the 2008 season were the first or last occasion on which he's dropped his pants to impress somebody besides his dutiful wife of fourteen years. In all likelihood, it was Favre's celebrity that kept potential partners mum during his stay in Green Bay - a celebrity that was perhaps a little less impressive when dumped into the uneasily impressed world of The Big Apple.
But it's easy to get sanctimonious about a millionaire with a current quarterback rating of 69.8 percent and deluded enough to think a woman would be flattered and intrigued by grainy photos of an organ in a non-aroused state (not that said organ in an aroused state would prove flattering and/or intriguing, either. But it would at least offer something to, as they say, hang your hat on ). No prude myself, I'd prefer to let Favre take the reins and personally demolish his reputation, as he kind of does in this revealing post-game interview taken after the Vikings fell once again, dropping to a rather dismal 2-5 standing:
"I was shocked that I was able to play and move around the way I was. My prayers were answered. I wanted the chance to play. I wanted the chance to play and play at a high enough level to give us a chance to win. I didn’t want to play just to play. I didn’t want to come in for one play to get a start; I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to come in and help this team win. It was touch-and-go even before the game today. I think what would keep most guys out for a long time obviously hasn’t kept me out.”
For the record, that's ten "I's" in nine sentences, all of them glowing in self-adulation, none of them seemingly aware of the fresh loss or the 2-5 losing season or even the fact that he's playing alongside a team of players besides himself - in fact, a team that he's currently being paid $16 million to play for, which works out to one million dollars per regular season game. Or, if you want to be brutally accurate (and I do), about $500,000 per turnover (if he continues at his current pace, that is).
After penning my original post on the launch of the football season, I heard from a business partner of my father's and old family friend, who added these helpful statistics to my more abstract musings:
"The 2010 Green Bay Packer payroll for 53 players is approximately $126,000,000. On average a teacher earns about $50,000 a year. Is the value of 53 players really the equivalent of 2,520 teachers?"
Much as it pains me to say it, given the weekly spectacle of a vain and hobbled ballplayer yakking on about answered prayers amid picked-off lobs and pocketing $1 million per week between sexting sessions, it would seem to be that 53 players really do seem to have more worth and importance than 2,500 teachers.
One suspects that Brett wasn't quite ready for the big wide world when he tossed off a sneer in Green Bay's direction and decamped for New York, or at least he wasn't prepared to find available admiring ladies in much shorter supply than he was used to in the cozy environs of Brown County. I don't for one second believe that Favre's texting misadventures with Jenn "Gameday Host" Sterger during the 2008 season were the first or last occasion on which he's dropped his pants to impress somebody besides his dutiful wife of fourteen years. In all likelihood, it was Favre's celebrity that kept potential partners mum during his stay in Green Bay - a celebrity that was perhaps a little less impressive when dumped into the uneasily impressed world of The Big Apple.
But it's easy to get sanctimonious about a millionaire with a current quarterback rating of 69.8 percent and deluded enough to think a woman would be flattered and intrigued by grainy photos of an organ in a non-aroused state (not that said organ in an aroused state would prove flattering and/or intriguing, either. But it would at least offer something to, as they say, hang your hat on ). No prude myself, I'd prefer to let Favre take the reins and personally demolish his reputation, as he kind of does in this revealing post-game interview taken after the Vikings fell once again, dropping to a rather dismal 2-5 standing:
"I was shocked that I was able to play and move around the way I was. My prayers were answered. I wanted the chance to play. I wanted the chance to play and play at a high enough level to give us a chance to win. I didn’t want to play just to play. I didn’t want to come in for one play to get a start; I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to come in and help this team win. It was touch-and-go even before the game today. I think what would keep most guys out for a long time obviously hasn’t kept me out.”
For the record, that's ten "I's" in nine sentences, all of them glowing in self-adulation, none of them seemingly aware of the fresh loss or the 2-5 losing season or even the fact that he's playing alongside a team of players besides himself - in fact, a team that he's currently being paid $16 million to play for, which works out to one million dollars per regular season game. Or, if you want to be brutally accurate (and I do), about $500,000 per turnover (if he continues at his current pace, that is).
After penning my original post on the launch of the football season, I heard from a business partner of my father's and old family friend, who added these helpful statistics to my more abstract musings:
"The 2010 Green Bay Packer payroll for 53 players is approximately $126,000,000. On average a teacher earns about $50,000 a year. Is the value of 53 players really the equivalent of 2,520 teachers?"
Much as it pains me to say it, given the weekly spectacle of a vain and hobbled ballplayer yakking on about answered prayers amid picked-off lobs and pocketing $1 million per week between sexting sessions, it would seem to be that 53 players really do seem to have more worth and importance than 2,500 teachers.
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2 comments:
Hang your hat on!!! You made me laugh out loud. Something the printed word rarely does.
For me, Brett Favre is a shining example of the American public's unwillingness to admit, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, that water is, in fact, wet. I watch a lot of football, and from what I've observed over the years, Brett Favre is not, in fact, a nice guy. He's the guy who knocked up his college girlfriend, but then waited a good 8 years before bothering to marry her. He's not a guy who makes his teammates better, and he's always, always, ALWAYS looking for the splashy "LOOK AT ME" play, over preserving the football, punting, and living to fight another series. He pissed all over Green Bay and their fan base when he left town, because he couldn't get his way, he got Eric Mangini fired in New York, his waffling kept MN from trying to get a decent QB (though as far as I'm concerned, they got exactly what they deserved). Oh, and by the way, he only won ONE Super Bowl, up there with such Hall of Fame Talent as Brad Johnson, Trent Dilfer, Jim McMahon, and Doug Williams. Anyhow, it always nice to see another thoughtful grownup call him out on the complete and total raging touchebag that he is. Thanks, Jason.
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