Eat My Sports: The end … or is it?

This week, Bryan Schools is off. We are not exactly sure why. At last report he was drunkenly wandering the streets of Baltimore as his holiday-themed alter-ego Roethlisberger Claus, offering women rides on his lap. Whether he really asked them beforehand is unclear. In any case, I, Bryan McBournie, am here to fill in. You can think of me as backup quarterback, Tarvaris Jackson.

I am here to talk about easily the worst person playing in the National Football League, also one of the most talked-about these days: Brett Favre. His streak is over, everyone, and pretty much no one is surprised by that, but somehow Favre topped himself.

You see, Brett Favre is a tremendous douche.

I know, I know. I’m really going out on a limb by saying that, but he’s outdone himself this time. Minutes after it was announced yesterday that Favre, 68, would not be starting for the Detroit Vikings, his website was offering signed footballs commemorating the streak of 297 consecutive starts–for only $499.99.

Really.

Let’s try to remember that these are just regular old footballs. They weren’t used in any games, they probably have never even been thrown, but Favre will have signed it, probably with some reference to 297 games and 1992-2010. Clearly, this is worth $500 before tax.

I will admit it, I was interested in Favre’s return to the NFL with the New York Jets, and as the season wound down last year, I really hoped that the Minnesota Vikings would make it to the Super Bowl, so that the man could finally retire with the last shred of dignity he had, closing out a season few saw coming. Then he pulled the same wishy-washy crap this summer, and came back again. I was sick of the story already.

Since then, it’s been a pretty entertaining journey, watching Favre and the Vikes struggle on the field and off. Between a losing season, a bad trade for Randy Moss, sparring with Brad Childress (who I still say looks like Frank Oz), and, oh yeah, the naked pictures and misconduct investigation, things have not gone the way Favre, and a lot of other people had planned. But to me, it’s been exquisite. Is there anything more symbolic of Favre’s year than the roof of the Metrodome collapsing?

I hate you, Brett Favre. I hate when you throw an interception and start limping again to suggest to everyone you only threw it because you’re nursing a lot of injuries, and that we should all remember how much of a trooper you are. I hate your stupid Wrangler commercials (which got pulled earlier this year for some unnamed penis-related reason), your constant need for attention costing your team and inability to let it go.

That said, I look forward to watching your fading accuracy next year with the Raiders.