Gary Lambrecht, The Examiner
2008-08-07 07:00:00.0
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BALTIMORE -

The other day, I had a typical conversation with my 5-year-old son. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do during his last few minutes of playtime before dinner.

First, he wanted to hit a few whiffle balls around the yard. But wait, he instead would rather climb a tree. Or kick around a soccer ball. Or get out the chalk and practice writing the alphabet on the driveway.

As I tried to get him to decide on one activity, he chose to use up his time by crying and throwing a temper tantrum.

There is a certain, self-absorbed, famous, older male who lately has reminded me a little of my son. He used to play quarterback for the Green Bay Packers.

Bratt — I mean, Brett — Favre has a way of going back and forth with his decisions, seemingly with little care for people around him, such as those who helped him attain wealth, fame and a slice of football immortality.

All he wants is gratification, even though he is unsure of how to define it. All he wants to do is play ball, even though he’s not sure where. All he needs is attention, and he still can’t believe the world does not revolve around him.

After tearfully announcing his retirement at age 38 five months ago following a legendary career marked by repeated hints at quitting in recent years, Favre has played the lead character in one of the most pathetic, tiresome soap operas in sports history.

Only ESPN is thrilled with this melodrama. The Worldwide Leader has filled countless hours of air time scrutinizing every twist and turn in the saga, while enjoying those scoops courtesy of No. 4 and talking about Favre on a first-name basis.

Clearly and understandably, the Packers were tired of this dance, well before Favre launched his final installment of “I-must-go-but-must-return.”

Three years ago, when Favre was past his prime and not exactly tearing it up anymore at Lambeau Field, the Packers did what a good organization does by drafting quarterback Aaron Rodgers to be Favre’s successor. Then, not long after Favre shed those tears, the Packers did the right thing by drafting Brian Brohm to be part of their future at quarterback.

But wait. The man-child wasn’t settled in long enough to mow the lawn a few times before he got “the itch” to play again. Or stay retired. Or play.

Thus began the saga that appears to have dragged on for about two years. Favre actually hinted at a return two weeks before the draft — mighty courteous of him.

Then, nearly two months after the draft, he told Coach Mike McCarthy he “might” want to play again. Then, shortly after denying reports of his imminent return, Favre sent text messages to general manager Ted Thompson, saying he wanted back in.

Thus began Favre’s summer of “Where’s The Love?” as he and the Packers dug in. Favre announced he wanted to be traded. He would not compete with Rodgers for the job. The Packers, boxed into a corner they helped create, were adamant about protecting their flanks by not releasing him.

Finally, after offering him $25 million to stay retired, to no avail, Green Bay has kissed him good-bye and is wisely refusing to trade him within its division. Favre appears headed to the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

No NFL player in the past 15 years has been as entertaining to watch as Favre, who made this mess happen partly by putting up his best season in nearly a decade. But after telling the world he was done, Favre has tapped deeply into his inner child and made quite the spectacle of himself.

Favre has become the boorish symbol of entitlement that pervades pro sports. Maybe after getting bopped around for the mediocre Buccaneers, he will shut up, pick up his ball, go home and stay there.

Gary Lambrecht writes about the NFL, Major League Baseball and college sports. He can be reached at glambrecht@baltimoreexaminer.com.