
I hate to be a glass half-empty type of guy, but even with the Vikings' win over the Cleveland Browns Sunday, I feel like I've been cheated. Brett Favre threw for 125 yards, one touchdown, no interceptions, and spent most of the afternoon handing the ball off to Adrian Peterson. This is not what I signed up for!
Favre is the swashbuckling, riverboat gambling gunslinger, who forces passes into places they shouldn't go, throws for 300 yards, three touchdowns and two picks. It seems like now Favre is just a neutered version of Phil Sims, a high percentage grind-it-out quarterback who throws as a last resort.
Yes, the Vikings conservative style is possibly a winning one, but at the expense of excitement? Since the 1970s, I was always been able to count on one thing: the Vikings played exciting football. They didn't always win (especially in the Super Bowl), they sometimes frustrated the heck out of me, but, man, they were fun to watch. Now I feel like my dad took away my Corvette, and replaced it with a Buick. Practical? Yes. But exciting?
In a few weeks, Green Bay will come to town, and Favre will be thinking about revenge. Revenge that he wasn't allowed to retire at the time of his choosing, something usually afforded to all-time greats. And, Favre will want to prove to the football world that an old #4 is still better than a young whipper-snapper like Aaron Rodgers. He won't prove that by handing the ball off and throwing screens. Air it out, Brett! Do it for me! I promise I won't care if you throw into triple-coverage!