An Open Letter To Brett Favre
Dear Brett:
Over the years, I've called you every name in the book, some I can share, some I can't. What I can tell you is that you have been a human highlight reel against my team, the Chicago Bears, especially in the nineties when the Packers were coached by the mighty Walrus and the Bears were led by Stammering Dave. But that's history, Brett. To be honest, although you are were the most hated player of a hated rival, your career and longevity are things legends are made of. And, there is no doubt, you are a legend. See, even I must admit it.
My purpose in writing you is not to suck up. You have Peter King and John Madden for that. My purpose is to make sure that you stay retired. I'm not writing you as a Bear fan trapped in Wisconsin where you are even more popular than Gouda, Old Milwaukee and bratwurst. I'm writing you as a football fan. And I'm asking you, now that you've made your bed, please lie in it.
There is a long history of players who didn't know when to get out. Johnny Unitas was a joke with the Chargers. Joe Namath was sad with the Rams. Joe Montana looked like Superman post kryptonyte with the Chiefs. And the greatest example of all, Willie Mays with the 1973 Mets. I've seen them all, Brett. They were old. They were pathetic. And our lasting memories of them were those last, terrible, awful, horrible days.
Brett, I appeal to your sense of right and wrong: Don't make the same mistake. Spend time with your kids. Go fishing. Plow your fields. Help out the coach at Southern Miss. Travel to an exotic place (I guess since you are from Mississippi that would be Alabama), do some TV work. Just don't ever suit up and sully one of the greatest legacies in NFL history.
Dan Marino stayed retired. So did Troy Aikman. And Terry Bradshaw. And since you easily fit in any of their shoes, you should do the same. Please Brett, for your family, for your kids, for your legacy, walk away and stay retired forever.
Unless Jerry Angelo calls you. Then, please come back.
Most sincerely,
Chip Ramsey
P.S. If you ever passing through Sheboygan on the way to Green Bay, feel free to look me up. Or, I can just meet you in Manitowoc. The first cold one is on me. I may even spring for some cheese curds.
Over the years, I've called you every name in the book, some I can share, some I can't. What I can tell you is that you have been a human highlight reel against my team, the Chicago Bears, especially in the nineties when the Packers were coached by the mighty Walrus and the Bears were led by Stammering Dave. But that's history, Brett. To be honest, although you My purpose in writing you is not to suck up. You have Peter King and John Madden for that. My purpose is to make sure that you stay retired. I'm not writing you as a Bear fan trapped in Wisconsin where you are even more popular than Gouda, Old Milwaukee and bratwurst. I'm writing you as a football fan. And I'm asking you, now that you've made your bed, please lie in it.
There is a long history of players who didn't know when to get out. Johnny Unitas was a joke with the Chargers. Joe Namath was sad with the Rams. Joe Montana looked like Superman post kryptonyte with the Chiefs. And the greatest example of all, Willie Mays with the 1973 Mets. I've seen them all, Brett. They were old. They were pathetic. And our lasting memories of them were those last, terrible, awful, horrible days.
Brett, I appeal to your sense of right and wrong: Don't make the same mistake. Spend time with your kids. Go fishing. Plow your fields. Help out the coach at Southern Miss. Travel to an exotic place (I guess since you are from Mississippi that would be Alabama), do some TV work. Just don't ever suit up and sully one of the greatest legacies in NFL history.
Dan Marino stayed retired. So did Troy Aikman. And Terry Bradshaw. And since you easily fit in any of their shoes, you should do the same. Please Brett, for your family, for your kids, for your legacy, walk away and stay retired forever.
Unless Jerry Angelo calls you. Then, please come back.
Most sincerely,
Chip Ramsey
P.S. If you ever passing through Sheboygan on the way to Green Bay, feel free to look me up. Or, I can just meet you in Manitowoc. The first cold one is on me. I may even spring for some cheese curds.
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