Favre's accomplishments earn respect from rival fanbase
Chad Ruter
Issue date: 9/24/07 Section: Sports
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At 1 p.m. Sunday, I did something I never thought imaginable as a die-hard Chicago Bears fan.
My confession will likely carry severe repercussions from my Bears fan brethren, but I am willing to accept the consequences.
The dirty deed: I cheered after Brett Favre threw a touchdown pass.
My immediate reaction was to call my brother, a Packers fan, and admit my guilt. His response was quiet and simple, "It was only a matter of time before you came around."
Only a matter of time? I have waited 15 years for Favre to drill a pass into the back of his running back's helmet, walk off the field in disgust and never be seen on the gridiron again.
Instead, I wake up on a sunny spring morning in April and pick up the newspaper in hopes of good news, only to find out that ol' No. 4 will don the green and gold one more year.
In the past, my hate for Favre was slightly more than my dislike for Saddam Hussein but a step short of my disdain for former Cubs shortstop Alex Gonzalez. If I saw Favre walking down a sidewalk, I would have hit the gas and smoked him with my driver's side door.
After I finished clapping for his touchdown pass, I thought for a moment why I hated him. Was it because he played for the hated Packers? Was it because he always seemed to beat the Bears?
And then, the answer hit me like a blind-side sack from Brian Urlacher. I am 100 percent, no questions asked, jealous of what Packers fans have.
When he takes the field every Sunday, Cheeseheads flock to Lambeau Field, or to the comfort of their collective couches, to watch the grey haired, good-ole-boy from Mississippi play the toughest position in professional sports, and play it harder than anyone to strap on shoulder pads.
What do Bears fans do - pray that Rex Grossman breaks his arm in a freak pre-game accident where Staley the mascot goes crazy driving the medical cart? It has gotten to a point that when the offense takes the field, the only thought running through my mind is "Do not turn it over."
My confession will likely carry severe repercussions from my Bears fan brethren, but I am willing to accept the consequences.
The dirty deed: I cheered after Brett Favre threw a touchdown pass.
My immediate reaction was to call my brother, a Packers fan, and admit my guilt. His response was quiet and simple, "It was only a matter of time before you came around."
Only a matter of time? I have waited 15 years for Favre to drill a pass into the back of his running back's helmet, walk off the field in disgust and never be seen on the gridiron again.
Instead, I wake up on a sunny spring morning in April and pick up the newspaper in hopes of good news, only to find out that ol' No. 4 will don the green and gold one more year.
In the past, my hate for Favre was slightly more than my dislike for Saddam Hussein but a step short of my disdain for former Cubs shortstop Alex Gonzalez. If I saw Favre walking down a sidewalk, I would have hit the gas and smoked him with my driver's side door.
After I finished clapping for his touchdown pass, I thought for a moment why I hated him. Was it because he played for the hated Packers? Was it because he always seemed to beat the Bears?
And then, the answer hit me like a blind-side sack from Brian Urlacher. I am 100 percent, no questions asked, jealous of what Packers fans have.
When he takes the field every Sunday, Cheeseheads flock to Lambeau Field, or to the comfort of their collective couches, to watch the grey haired, good-ole-boy from Mississippi play the toughest position in professional sports, and play it harder than anyone to strap on shoulder pads.
What do Bears fans do - pray that Rex Grossman breaks his arm in a freak pre-game accident where Staley the mascot goes crazy driving the medical cart? It has gotten to a point that when the offense takes the field, the only thought running through my mind is "Do not turn it over."

Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
Ritchie
posted 9/24/07 @ 9:48 AM CST
Brett's name is spelled, "Favre" not "Farve".
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