(Editor’s Note: The following piece was penned past midnight on the night of the infamous Favre trade to the Jets)

Ok, this ain’t late for you. But imagine yourself as a 33 year-old dude with three sons seven years old and under. Yeah, I know. Boring. But it’s late. Roll with me.

Now a little background. I’m a Packer fan. Big freaking Packer fan. Grew up in Wisconsin. Ok, I grew up in a bunch of places, but my roots are in the Cheese State. Brett Favre helped me love football again.

Man, that’s enough. I know, Favre fans are sappy as all hell. He’s a god in football terms. If he were to run for office, we’d elect him President of all that is boyish, gunslinging and good.

And then things changed for this Packer fan.

Brett Favre demanded to be traded to the Vikings. Or released so that he could sign with the Vikings. The most hated rival of the Packers. The team that had everything – a defense, the best young running back… but no quarterback. Why did he want to go there? So he could beat the Packers and win a Super Bowl.

Screw you, Brett Favre. You died to me that day. I bought my oldest son your jersey. He wore it into the ground. My four year-old wears it every other day now, and wears it again when we tell him to stop. I don’t care what your differences were with Packers management. From that day forward, you were an athlete who played for the Packers. You were no longer the symbol of the franchise.

I know, quite a leap. We loved that dude. Could do no wrong. No matter how many picks he threw, we always made an excuse for him. He has no weapons! The receiver ran the wrong way! The defense stunk, so he had to force in some passes! It was too cold! It was pass interference! Not enough Vicodin! We looked past it all because he hurled receivers over his back, played with the passion of 743 little boys, and could pull every hot lady this side of Oconomowoc. If he wanted to, of course.

But don’t think our loyalty has no bounds. I’m a Packer fan first, dammit. You talk about playing for the enemy, and you are the enemy.

Brett Favre drove me to drink tonight. And when that happens, I go buck wild on message boards. Following is a sampling of some of my thoughts I had on the subject and the translation for those not impaired.

The trade was announced. Favre didn’t get his wish. Not the Vikings. Not the Bears. Not the Bucs. No, he was being traded out of the division, out of the conference, out of the competitive stratosphere to the Jets. It started out clean. I had the best of intentions…

This was absolutely the smartest thing to do. Look, we all realize he's valuable, but the marriage was over. He had to go. So don't say "he wasn't good enough for the Packers, so cut him." Everyone acknowledges that Favre is still a good player, but he couldn't continue to play for the Packers. No better place to go than a crappy AFC team that the Packers will never face again. Not to mention, the likelihood of him succeeding and making the team look worse is incredibly remote.

Say what you will, but if you're going to trade away your team's icon, this is the way to go. Traded to the Bears or Vikings? Idiotic, approaching career suicide. Inside the conference to a team you face in week four and a team capable of big things in the playoffs? Fighting with fire. Going to the opposite conference, a different world, a place that has little offensive talent and a completely new offense to learn? Perfect.

Good luck, Brett. You'll need it.

This message had all of the finest intentions. Well thought out. Civil. Logical. There may have been a tinge of anger (ok, maybe more than a tinge), but I was at peace with the move. There was no better resolution in my mind. Brett wanted out. The Packers didn’t want him back. This was the best business solution. Trade him to a place that is least likely to bite you back.

But then idiots started posting. You see, there are some Favre-iphants who will stop at nothing to worship their man. He is the reason the Packers went 13-3 last season. He is the reason the Packers attended two Super Bowls in the 90s. He is the reason Miller High Life tastes like liquid gold. He is the reason this team hasn’t moved to Menomonee Falls. He is the reason Wisconsinites like beer, cheese curds and women with 27 extra curves. The man is worshipped.

There was a time when I bordered on Favre worship. I made excuses for him. I made arguments for him being the greatest quarterback of all time. I tried – real hard – not to be a homer. I convinced myself of the truths. Only when you get stabbed in the back can you see clearly.

So everyone is on Ted Thompson’s ass for some reason over this. Favre-iphants want him fired. You know, because Favre led the team to a play or two from the Super Bowl. It wasn’t the new talent around him. You know, the talent that didn’t exist when the Favre-led team went 4-12 two seasons prior. Because Favre accounted for six wins last season, but was held back by a poor supporting cast two seasons ago.

It’s annoying, and I’ve had it.

I have learned something lately. Something that stuck with me in the Brewer blogs and I see it now in this garbage. Wisconsin sports fans are retards.

Sorry. Had to be said. I'm one of them (sure, a recovering retard), but the vast majority of you are overreacting, sky is falling, irrational little girls.

Brett Favre is gone. Live with it. Accept it. Your life is not over. Ted Thompson is not the devil. The Packers are still talented. The world is not out to get you. This is not a conspiracy to load up an east coast team just for the east coast biased media. New York is not looking to blow up Wisconsin. Beer is not one of the four food groups. Fat women are not candy. Your couch is not your home. "Taking a vacation" does not include driving ten miles to someone else's farm. Being open minded does not include deciding it's ok to drink Miller Lite instead of MGD.

You're an embarrassment. I wish I wasn't originally from this piss hole state.

Love,

The Jerk

Ok, need to clear some things up here. First, I was emotional – this is clear. I apologize for the use of the word “retard”. It is offensive. When you lack brain cells, you lack vocabulary. Second, this pretty much sums up my feelings about fans of my teams. I am die hard Brewers, Bucks and Packers, but the fans are idiots. The east coast media is biased and hates them. Those who don’t properly pull for their team are bandwagon fans. Message boards and blogs on the team sites are littered with irrational, Midwestern silly speak.

Anyway, my point here is that we all loved Brett Favre. Ok, we Packer fans all loved Brett Favre. But he’s gone now. He asked to leave. We’re still Packer fans. We’re still fans of a team that went 13-3 last season. I’m not in “slit my wrists” mode because a soon-to-be 39-year-old quarterback who is prone to the interception is on the way out.

Unfortunately, you get a couple of drinks in me and I start talking your ear off like that annoying townie at your local bar.

For someone who cares way too much about his image, Favre sure is acting like a guy who doesn't give a *** about his legacy. Look, I loved Brett Favre. But this is the same freaking guy who demanded to be cut or traded so that he could play for the VIKINGS for the sole purpose of pissing off the Packers and their fans.

Eff Favre. You're like a hot x-girlfriend. I'm done with you. I don't want your big boobs. Your butt is now flabby. Give me stability. I'll take my buck-toothed girl who puts out every night and never leaves me guessing about whether she's doing the neighbor and his five buddies in the barn.

That’s right, I used the term “eff.” I went there. I don’t care what anyone thinks… but I don’t want to get banned. My homage to Bill Simmons, I guess. Also funny that “damn” got censored. Yeah, I just ruined my image. You thought I said something a whole lot worse.

Seriously, though. Has Brett Favre gone crazy? What was he thinking? For the fourth year in a row (officially, you could say this has gone on for 10 seasons), Favre has thrown around retirement. The Packers drafted a quarterback in the first round three years ago in preparation for his departure. He retires this season, and the team drafts two more quarterbacks in response. Then he changes his mind. And as a cherry on top, he asks to be traded to or cut so that he can sign with the Vikings. Right. Yeah, we’ll do that.

This brings up a question. What does a hero have to do to completely destroy his hero image? I’m guessing if Superman got drunk and posted on a nerdy message board after midnight, that would do it. Think about the individuals with the most pristine image possible. In sports, it doesn’t get much more pristine than Brett Favre. And that man just wrote the book on how to flush that image down the toilet. There is nothing worse to a loyal fan than a traitor. Look, I don’t hate Favre for wanting to come back. It’s annoying, but that’s his flaw. But wanting to play for the Vikings? The most hated rival? He did just play for the Packers, right? He understands how deep this cuts, doesn’t he? He just doesn’t seem to care.

So I see Favre like that hot girlfriend. She toys with your emotions because she knows she can say and do whatever she wants since you can’t do any better. She threatens to leave you year after year. Eventually, though, loyalty to that hot girlfriend has its limits.
You get to a point where stability is simply more attractive – even if it’s in the form of a homely outward appearance – than the hassle of hot and arrogant.

Of course, now I had an audience, and that audience was eating it up. They liked the analogy. Let’s beat it into the ground…

And you all are acting like a bunch of fat slobs whose girlfriend left you after taking your virginity, and you're scared to death you'll never find someone of the opposite sex to touch you again. Brett Favre turns freaking 39 this year. He is a traitor who wanted to BEAT YOUR TEAM on your most hated rival. Let her go. She doesn't love you back. She doesn't look or dance the way she did 10 years ago. She's nothing more than a used up, inbreeding, tractor trailer ho now. Refusing to let go of her teet, latching on to 10 years ago, blowing up last year like she was Superwoman... It's old. She was human. She had the purple herpes.

Roll over and you find your new girl. Life is ok.

I’m pretty sure I misspelled “teet”, but I was on a roll and in no mood to stop. I admit, I get a little offensive and surly when I get riled up. When you can post anonymously, the filter drops off.

But this is the honest truth. Too many Packer fans are married to Brett Favre. They will now follow him wherever he goes and root for his new team – to hell with the Packers he left behind! What is wrong with these people? How blind are they? I don’t care “what he did for the organization” while he was around. Ok, I do. I appreciate it. But that doesn’t mean he can act like a freaking fool at the tail end of his tenure. Dude went nuts. Lost his marbles. And I’m moving on.

What really pissed me off about this situation was that Favre was the Packers. He was what was right about rooting for a player. He said all of the right things. Did all of the right things. Was a Packer for life, and said as much. “If the Packers ever said they didn’t want me anymore, I’d just retire.” Then he got crazy. After changing my opinion about the selfishness of players, and the “me me me” attitude that has left loyalty behind, Brett Favre reminded me that in the end, all athletes are dicks.

Someone posted in response to the anger directed towards Favre, asking – sarcastically – that they remove the player’s name and number from their Packers jersey. Hmmm… Sure, I’ll take that literally.

"I suggest that in the future you buy Packers gear without any player affiliation"

Actually, that's a good idea. Players don't give a *** about their team. I do. I won't demand to be released. Or traded. Or have a hissy fit with management. I'm green and gold, baby.

No name, no number. Just green and gold.

Packer fans lost their innocence today, and it sucks. The reason I felt comfortable buying my son that Favre jersey and passing it on to his brother was that I thought that Favre and Packers would be synonymous. That’s partially true, but won’t be for now. Wounds need to heal. I’ll have to go back to Bart Starr and Robin Yount jerseys. Or I’ll just rip off the “4” and “F-A-V-R-E” on the back. Just green and gold. Dammit.

I was on a roll, but it was time for my rumble in the nerdery to come to a conclusion. Make it good. Give them something to think about.

I'm gonna poop in a bucket and call it popcorn now.

Out.

Ok, when it was typed buzzed after midnight, it sounded a whole lot more profound. Trust me