Sportress of Blogitude

Blatant Homerism

For The Next Few Months, Maybe I Should Change The Name Of This Blog To Brettress of Favreitude


Have you ever had a moment in life where you thought how nice it would be to have been to be Rip Van Winkle? No?

Neither have I – not completely – at least up until today (although I have a recurring dream of trading places with Wink Martindale all the time, but that’s another story altogether).

Anyway, in the classic tale by Washington Irving, ol’ Rip has a little too much to drink and decides to sleep it off under a tree, only to wake up 20 years later. That’s about how I feel right now about all of this Brett Favre bullshit, but instead of sleeping for 20 years, nodding off until training camp in August would probably do the trick.

To think that it’s only been a few days since Favre was granted his release by the Jets and I’m already sick and tired of hearing about it does not bode well for my chances of holding on to the already-precarious grip I presently have on my sanity. Remember, I live in the heart of Vikings Country (cue Viking horn), so if you think you hear too much about the Gunslinger and his comings and goings, you ain’t got nothing on me.

So, why do I beat my head against the wall and pay attention to all the gossip? Even more importantly, why am I wasting time writing about it?

Good question. That I cannot answer. I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment. Remember, I am a Vikings fan.

Anyway, the latest dish: rumors are now swirling that Brett has hired a personal trainer. Ohs noes! He must be getting in shape to play football again! That’s what it has to be, right? Right?


Is Brett Favre seeing Minnesota Vikings purple in his future? [Pioneer Press]