By Michael Wilbon
Saturday, October 30, 2004; Page D01
How is it possible that Brett Favre has never played in Washington, not
at RFK, not at FedEx Field, not in the preseason, not the regular
season, not the playoffs? How dare the quirky NFL scheduling system give
Washington the Atlanta Falcons and the sad-sack Detroit Lions so many
times over the years, but never the indestructible and incandescent
Favre?
It's our loss not to have had him here for 14 years, to have seen him
only from a great distance through an unprecedented three MVP seasons
and two Super Bowl seasons, the first of which produced a championship.
It's crazy that Favre's extraordinary show has played in Indianapolis
and Jacksonville but not here. So tomorrow afternoon figures to be his
first, last and only appearance in Washington, the one chance for folks
here to see not just a quarterback who ranks among the NFL's top five
all-time in victories, touchdown passes and winning percentage, but
something even rarer: an NFL superstar.
There aren't many of them. In fact, you don't even need 10 fingers to
count the NFL players who could just as easily be featured in People
Magazine as Sports Illustrated: Favre, Donovan McNabb, Michael Vick, Tom
Brady, Ray Lewis, Terrell Owens and Randy Moss. That's about it, and
only Favre has made a big enough pop culture impression to be featured
in a movie, "There's Something About Mary." Yes, Brady has twice as many
Super Bowl rings, but it's Favre who brings to the field every Sunday
the best of Cal Ripken and the best of Roger Staubach.
It's Favre who for 14 seasons has outrun linebackers, head-butted Warren
Sapp, fired passes between cornerbacks and safeties with such daring
they were too stunned to react. It's Favre who has avoided pass rushers
as if he had eyes in the back of his head, Favre who commands a huddle
like General Patton and played the final minutes of 30 or so fourth
quarters like Indiana Jones negotiating the Temple of Doom.
Lately, part of what endears Favre to us even more has to do with
negotiating the complexities of human drama. It has been 10 months of
personal trauma we wouldn't wish on anybody, from the pre-Christmas
death of his father, Irv, to the fatal ATV accident on Oct. 6 of his
brother-in-law, Casey Tynes, to this week's revelation that his wife,
Deanna, will undergo chemotherapy to fight breast cancer.
Yes, the guy down the block could have equal tragedy in his life but
doesn't have to deal with it publicly, doesn't have to play the Raiders
on national TV Monday night before burying his 58-year-old father,
having just gotten the news a day or so before.
You didn't have to be a Packers fan, or know much of anything about
Favre, to have your eyes grow a little moist that Monday night last Dec.
22 when he threw for four touchdowns and nearly 400 yards in that 41-7
victory over the Raiders. You didn't have to be a Cheesehead to feel
Favre brought honor not just to his own father that night, but to every
son who lost his first throw-and-catch partner.
Fact is, the sportsmen we find most irresistible are the ones who stand
a little taller in the pocket, so to speak, the ones who play hurt and
inspire teammates and pat the opponent on the helmet after a good lick.
That he can do it while mourning his father or in the midst of his
wife's crises only humanizes him. It's no wonder, in a sport where
helmets hide faces and the league makes certain the uniform is the
consistent attraction, that Favre in the 2003 and 2004 Harris Poll
surveys of sports fans, finished No. 3 as the nation's favorite sports
figure behind Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods.
Washington will surely understand if nobody outside the metropolitan
area is rooting for the Redskins on Sunday when the Packers visit.
Overwhelmingly, they'll be rooting, if not for the Packers, then for
Favre. "The adversity that I and my family have faced, not only last
year but this year," he said in a conference call the other day, "has
easily surpassed the adversity that a person would face on a football
field. It certainly brings into perspective and prioritizes life in
general . . . Unfortunately . . . it takes a tragic or personal setback
to put those things into perspective . . . When things happen like that
to you, studying film, preparing for this defense or trying to get the
team back on track is important, but it seems secondary."
Favre, like a great many athletes, finds the field to be a haven, the
place he can temporarily shut out everything and do what he does best. And
because he is as important to the Packers as any quarterback is to any
team since John Elway was to Denver in his prime, Favre's teammates seem
to sense when he's vulnerable emotionally and rally around him. When
Favre makes his 196th consecutive regular season start Sunday, despite a
sprained right wrist, it figures he'll play well because he almost
always does.
The toughness Favre has exhibited is both physical and mental. Troy
Aikman, the former Cowboys quarterback and now the top analyst on Fox
network broadcasts of NFL games, said of Favre: "You can't compile a
list that's foolproof, but of the important criteria you're looking for
in a quarterback I think you have to begin with the ability to be
accurate throwing the ball and you have to be extremely tough to play
the position. I'm not talking about the streak of games, specifically,
because there are injuries you cannot play through at times. But I'm
talking about a mental toughness. It's a high-pressure job, playing
quarterback. And when I think about Brett's attributes, I think first
and foremost about his toughness, his love of the game and his passion
for competition."
Aikman, who has been retired since 2000, had a long talk with Favre
recently. "He told me I look like I could still play, and I told him I
cannot take the hits and come back the next week," Aikman said. "And he
told me, 'I've always got something wrong with me now, but my ace in the
hole has always been my arm. I've never lost my arm strength. My arm is
there for me. My arm has bailed me out of a lot of jams.' "
It's the arm, of course, that makes other quarterbacks, even great ones,
jealous. It's the arm that allows Favre to fire 40 yards downfield while
backpedaling. It's the arm that catches a safety off guard when it looks
like he's got the receiver covered. It's the arm that gets Favre in
trouble when he throws interceptions into triple-coverage. But it's that
golden arm that is still firing (13 touchdowns, six interceptions this
season) even though Favre just turned 35.
But as Aikman pointed out, the arm is attached to a body and mind that
are as tough as elephant hide. Favre doesn't wilt, doesn't ever give in,
even when his team is demanding he lead them at the same time his wife
or his mother needs him. The Redskins, to beat the Packers, have to
figure out how to beat Brett Favre. And it's that struggle, at last,
that will play out here.<!-- / message -->
Saturday, October 30, 2004; Page D01
How is it possible that Brett Favre has never played in Washington, not
at RFK, not at FedEx Field, not in the preseason, not the regular
season, not the playoffs? How dare the quirky NFL scheduling system give
Washington the Atlanta Falcons and the sad-sack Detroit Lions so many
times over the years, but never the indestructible and incandescent
Favre?
It's our loss not to have had him here for 14 years, to have seen him
only from a great distance through an unprecedented three MVP seasons
and two Super Bowl seasons, the first of which produced a championship.
It's crazy that Favre's extraordinary show has played in Indianapolis
and Jacksonville but not here. So tomorrow afternoon figures to be his
first, last and only appearance in Washington, the one chance for folks
here to see not just a quarterback who ranks among the NFL's top five
all-time in victories, touchdown passes and winning percentage, but
something even rarer: an NFL superstar.
There aren't many of them. In fact, you don't even need 10 fingers to
count the NFL players who could just as easily be featured in People
Magazine as Sports Illustrated: Favre, Donovan McNabb, Michael Vick, Tom
Brady, Ray Lewis, Terrell Owens and Randy Moss. That's about it, and
only Favre has made a big enough pop culture impression to be featured
in a movie, "There's Something About Mary." Yes, Brady has twice as many
Super Bowl rings, but it's Favre who brings to the field every Sunday
the best of Cal Ripken and the best of Roger Staubach.
It's Favre who for 14 seasons has outrun linebackers, head-butted Warren
Sapp, fired passes between cornerbacks and safeties with such daring
they were too stunned to react. It's Favre who has avoided pass rushers
as if he had eyes in the back of his head, Favre who commands a huddle
like General Patton and played the final minutes of 30 or so fourth
quarters like Indiana Jones negotiating the Temple of Doom.
Lately, part of what endears Favre to us even more has to do with
negotiating the complexities of human drama. It has been 10 months of
personal trauma we wouldn't wish on anybody, from the pre-Christmas
death of his father, Irv, to the fatal ATV accident on Oct. 6 of his
brother-in-law, Casey Tynes, to this week's revelation that his wife,
Deanna, will undergo chemotherapy to fight breast cancer.
Yes, the guy down the block could have equal tragedy in his life but
doesn't have to deal with it publicly, doesn't have to play the Raiders
on national TV Monday night before burying his 58-year-old father,
having just gotten the news a day or so before.
You didn't have to be a Packers fan, or know much of anything about
Favre, to have your eyes grow a little moist that Monday night last Dec.
22 when he threw for four touchdowns and nearly 400 yards in that 41-7
victory over the Raiders. You didn't have to be a Cheesehead to feel
Favre brought honor not just to his own father that night, but to every
son who lost his first throw-and-catch partner.
Fact is, the sportsmen we find most irresistible are the ones who stand
a little taller in the pocket, so to speak, the ones who play hurt and
inspire teammates and pat the opponent on the helmet after a good lick.
That he can do it while mourning his father or in the midst of his
wife's crises only humanizes him. It's no wonder, in a sport where
helmets hide faces and the league makes certain the uniform is the
consistent attraction, that Favre in the 2003 and 2004 Harris Poll
surveys of sports fans, finished No. 3 as the nation's favorite sports
figure behind Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods.
Washington will surely understand if nobody outside the metropolitan
area is rooting for the Redskins on Sunday when the Packers visit.
Overwhelmingly, they'll be rooting, if not for the Packers, then for
Favre. "The adversity that I and my family have faced, not only last
year but this year," he said in a conference call the other day, "has
easily surpassed the adversity that a person would face on a football
field. It certainly brings into perspective and prioritizes life in
general . . . Unfortunately . . . it takes a tragic or personal setback
to put those things into perspective . . . When things happen like that
to you, studying film, preparing for this defense or trying to get the
team back on track is important, but it seems secondary."
Favre, like a great many athletes, finds the field to be a haven, the
place he can temporarily shut out everything and do what he does best. And
because he is as important to the Packers as any quarterback is to any
team since John Elway was to Denver in his prime, Favre's teammates seem
to sense when he's vulnerable emotionally and rally around him. When
Favre makes his 196th consecutive regular season start Sunday, despite a
sprained right wrist, it figures he'll play well because he almost
always does.
The toughness Favre has exhibited is both physical and mental. Troy
Aikman, the former Cowboys quarterback and now the top analyst on Fox
network broadcasts of NFL games, said of Favre: "You can't compile a
list that's foolproof, but of the important criteria you're looking for
in a quarterback I think you have to begin with the ability to be
accurate throwing the ball and you have to be extremely tough to play
the position. I'm not talking about the streak of games, specifically,
because there are injuries you cannot play through at times. But I'm
talking about a mental toughness. It's a high-pressure job, playing
quarterback. And when I think about Brett's attributes, I think first
and foremost about his toughness, his love of the game and his passion
for competition."
Aikman, who has been retired since 2000, had a long talk with Favre
recently. "He told me I look like I could still play, and I told him I
cannot take the hits and come back the next week," Aikman said. "And he
told me, 'I've always got something wrong with me now, but my ace in the
hole has always been my arm. I've never lost my arm strength. My arm is
there for me. My arm has bailed me out of a lot of jams.' "
It's the arm, of course, that makes other quarterbacks, even great ones,
jealous. It's the arm that allows Favre to fire 40 yards downfield while
backpedaling. It's the arm that catches a safety off guard when it looks
like he's got the receiver covered. It's the arm that gets Favre in
trouble when he throws interceptions into triple-coverage. But it's that
golden arm that is still firing (13 touchdowns, six interceptions this
season) even though Favre just turned 35.
But as Aikman pointed out, the arm is attached to a body and mind that
are as tough as elephant hide. Favre doesn't wilt, doesn't ever give in,
even when his team is demanding he lead them at the same time his wife
or his mother needs him. The Redskins, to beat the Packers, have to
figure out how to beat Brett Favre. And it's that struggle, at last,
that will play out here.<!-- / message -->
