Posted on 01/08/2004 2:48:16 PM PST by Solson
After Brett Favre's dad, "Big Irv," died last month, even Eagles fans felt sorry for the Green Bay Packers' star quarterback. For about three minutes. Then we found out the Birds would be playing the Packers in the second round of the NFC playoffs. And now, Birds fans are bad-mouthing Favre, big time. On talk radio, they mocked his dad's ascension to heaven. On the Internet, they're laughing at the idea that, as one TV sportscaster proclaimed, "There's an angel on the shoulders of the Packers." The trash talk at the Eagles' official fan site only ceased when the Web site moderator threatened to ban anyone who joked about Big Irv. There is no pity in Philly for "Saint" Brett. Family tree Irvin Favre. As a high school football coach, he helped Southern Miss violate NCAA rules to recruit his son. WIFE: Deanna. He got her pregnant when he was 18, and she was 19. Married her seven years later. BROTHER: Scott. Killed a family friend when he drove his car into a railroad crossing and got hit by a train. Jailed for DUI. SISTER: Brandi. A Mississippi beauty queen, arrested for shoplifting. Model citizen In 1992, Favre was arrested after a barroom brawl in Hattiesburg, Miss., that began when he was arguing with the future Mrs. Favre. A bystander tried to intervene, and soon Favre was wrestling him to the floor. Favre was charged with drunkenness, disorderly conduct, and profanity. Pillhead Favre was a substance abuser in the mid-1990s. In 1996, he announced he was addicted to Vicodin, a prescription pain-killer. The NFL sent him to the Menninger Clinic in Topeka, Kan., to dry out. Favre now says he's sober. Mentor "The biggest problem wasn't getting the pills down, it was keeping them down. I'd go into the bathroom, take a big slug of water, and try swallowing a handful of pills. Most of the time, I'd just throw them right back up and they'd land on the floor. No big deal. I'd just pick the pills out of the vomit, rinse them off, and try again." - From "Vicodin, Rehab and Beer. Hey, It Won Me a Super Bowl," an excerpt from Favre's 1998 autobiography, "Favre: For The Record," published in Esquire magazine Caring father figure During his Vicodin addiction, Favre went into a seizure in front of his 7-year-old daughter. While watching her dad convulsing, the child screamed, "Is my daddy going to die? Is my daddy going to die?" A reformed man Favre was sprung from rehab after lying to his counselors. In his autobiography, he brags: "Finally, I told them what they wanted to hear: that I was a drug addict and I needed help. Sure enough, a week later they said, 'We think you're ready to leave.' "...Then I walked out the door and was like, 'Screw you.' " Dork He's a clubhouse prankster who's been known to put Heet ointment in players' jockstraps and shaving cream in their helmets. Once, he doused his own roommate with a bucket of ice water while he was on a commode. If he wasn't making $10 million a year, somebody would've already pushed him off a tall building. Hollywood star In his best-known screen role, "There's Something About Mary," he somehow manages to lose Cameron Diaz to Ben Stiller. In the lesser-known "Reggie's Prayer," Favre plays a janitor in an all-star cast that includes M.C. Hammer, Reggie White, Mike Holmgren and Pat Morita. A gentleman Favre likes to fart. A lot. He told Playboy: "If I'm on a golf outing with [Dan] Marino and [Jim] Kelly and they're getting ready to hit, I'll rip a big fart. They say, 'That's awful!' But why? Everybody does it. Just because you're a professional athlete or a politician doesn't mean you stop taking dumps and scratching your ass. Of course, there's a time and place for humor like that. I don't go to corporate events, where everyone is in a suit and tie, and start cutting farts. Not loud ones, anyway." Wuss Brett is scared of the dark. He sleeps with a light on.
FATHER:
So do I. I have nothing whatsoever against Favre, admire him as a QB, and think the above article is pathetic. But I'm also sick of hearing this angel talk from sportscasters, most of whom probably don't have the foggiest notion as to what an angel even is, nor any understanding of any other God-related issue. Aren't some of them suggesting--in their tongue-in-cheek manner, of course--that Brett's father has "become" an angel? That's the epitome of ignorance.
MM
Er, well, no:
Oakland is to San Francisco as Newark New Jersey is to Manhattan Island. I disavow any comparison to Oakland and the Raitards. The Golden State Warriors (also in Oakland)aren't even a basketball team. Oh sure, they play basketball in the NBA, but that's their only similarity to a basketball team. San Francisco ends halfway across the Bay Bridge in the West, the end of the Golden Gate Bridge where it dumps out into Taliban-boy John 'Abdul Hamid Walker-Lindh's mom's house to the North, and the graveyards of Colma California in the South.
As for San Jose Sharks being a San Francisco team, you guys need a better map. By that geographic standard, I guess that the Anaheim Angels have a relative football franchise in the San Diego Chargers.
San Jose is a very long swim from here, gents. It's an hour away south on I-101.
We have two teams here in SF. That's it.
Do you want me to ping an AM to pull my post? Maybe they can just insert "Phoenix" into the slot?
Cabbe in New York? They'd eat that pinhead alive. Not that there's anything wrong with that :-))
And I just fumed through dinner, thinking of THAT incident, and realized that's when my complete dislike for the Vikequeens turned to pure hatred.
Did I tell you my favorite picture of the Cards-Queens game was the one of Chris Hovan on his knees after the Cards scored? I just love that picture. Love it.
And don't even mention Warren Sapp to me.
...If [The Golden State Warriors] played in the East they would be in the playoffs."
Are we talking about TV audience geographics, or sports team home towns? I forget.
As you know, California is a big state. We have more than just one big city here like a lot of people in the Midwest are used to. These locales are their own entity.
By the same token, if I were to displace the city of San Jose and drop it into the middle of Missouri, it just might be your biggest metropolitan city -- though it wouldn't have any good BBQ pits.
Anyway, back to the original thread: The author of this piece stands a good chance of being completely clowned after my Green Bay Packers conclude their game with Philadelphia this Sunday.
Owl_Eagle
”Guns Before Butter.”
I don't do airport parking in a Mpls winter (spend six hours traveling and take the helm of a rolling icebox), so I used to call him directly to haul me out to MSP whenever I flew anywhere. He's a good guy, trust me. I believed him about Bernard and the Favre incident. He felt like crap about that.
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