Though I'm a native of Chicago and narrow my eyes a bit at the first sign of Packers gear, this blog isn't an ongoing tirade of my hatred towards Brett Favre. Rather, it is a peek inside the psychology of athletes unable to let go of the sports they love and identify with. No one in recent history seems to epitomize this (tragic?) trend better than ol' number 4. True, the name Michael Jordan could possibly be interchanged, but when the guy plays from your hometown and brings six championships to your doorstep, he gets granted a bit of leeway.
I could put it off no longer. On the day that Favre breaks his second retirement and signs a two-year deal with the Vikings, I have written my first post. See you in the NFC central.
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