40-year old Madison resident Rob Sax knows how it feels. He, like all Green Bay Packers fans, feels lost and betrayed by the actions of the Patron Saint of Wisconsin Brett Favre’s recent dalliances with the Minnesota Vikings.
But unlike of the others, he wasn’t going to take this travesty sitting down – nosiree, Bub, Sax did what any average person with way too much time on their hands would do: he started a Facebook page – a place Packers fans from all over can assemble and mourn together: Mourn 4: The Loss of Favre. Once the Facebook page took off, he created Mourn4.com, where for five bucks, you can purchase an armband with the number 4 on it that you can wear to work, church, A.A. meetings, etc. to show everyone the pain you are going through because of The Gunslinger Who Shall Not Be Named.
Join Packer Nation this season as we come together in our loss. Wear the band to Packer games. Wear it to Viking games. Wear it when you watch games at home or at the bar. Wear it for the man Number 4 once was — not for the purple menace he is hoping to become.
Michael Rand of Randball managed to get in touch with the proprietor of the website for an interview, and Mr. Sax was more than happy to share his story.
“It’s kind of a simple story, and really what you might guess. It was maybe two weeks ago, a group of friends and I were sitting around talking about the Favre debacle yet again. Last year, when it was Packers vs. Favre, it was like your parents were getting divorced. Now with the Vikings [talk], it’s like they’re already divorced and you’re finding out your dad is dating the neighbor lady across the street.”
What if the neighbor lady is kind of hot and has a 60-inch plasma and a Wii? Would that make it any better? Sometimes, you have to take the bad with the good in situations like this – including Favre’s almost-definite unholy union with the Vikings.
I always knew Packers fans always worshipped Favre a little too much for them to be considered normal or sane or display any semblance of a grasp on reality, but here’s the opening passage from the Facebook page – go ahead and wallow in the detached view of reality:
For nearly two decades, we had the privilege of watching Brett Favre lead our beloved Green Bay Packers. He was more than the wins and losses, the statistics, the awards. Brett Favre embodied a spirit that was bigger than any individual player. It was a spirit that reminded us of all that’s good and right, not just about the NFL, not just about football, maybe not even just about sport. It reminds us of the pure joy that can be found in pursuing your passions. The satisfaction in knowing you poured your heart into something, fully, with no regret. It reminds us of the courage it takes to get back up, every time. To appreciate what you’ve been given, to have fun, and to work hard, because — well — that’s just what you’re supposed to do.
It reminds parents to play catch with their kids.
But what about cancer? Can Brett Favre cure cancer? No, unfortunately he cannot – that is why 4% of all proceeds from the sale of the armbands goes to breast cancer research.
There’s that “4″ again. Methinks this guy might be just a few paint thinner cocktails away from coming completely unhinged – imagine that movie the number 23 starring Jim Carey where the main character become obsessed with the number – only with way too much Old Milwaukee and bratwurst.
Nevertheless, Cox soldiers on, dreading the day when he finally loses his hero, his idol, his god – forever.
“It’s almost unthinkable. I wouldn’t say it’s angry or completely upset. It’s just disappointing, like the way a parent gets disappointed in a kid or the way you’re disappointed when you find out there’s no Santa Claus.”
Now hold on a “just havin’ fun out there” minute! There’s no Santa Claus? How can this be? Then who in the hell ran over Grandma on Christmas Eve? Could it have been Donte Stallworth? I guess we’ll never know now.