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1969
It's biblical ... a man will betray himself in his own words every time (King Solomon).  He introduces himself ... "Hi, I'm Brett Favre and I'm from Hattiesburg, Mississippi and I'm the only person on this team that was born in the 1960's".  

For me, the year 1969 was quite special too.  I came from a large family of twelve that lived in one house: 2 grandparents, 2 parents, and 7 sisters.  There was only one (1) bathroom and to this day, I still don't know what the inside of that bathroom looks like.  Thank God boys were equipped differently.  The good old days when food was put on the table and before you could announce that you didn't like (to eat) something ... it was gone.  A board to sit 6 or more between 2 chairs.  The fondness of memories.    

69 was the birth of our first grandchild ... my niece ... a miracle baby.  It was then that I first saw something very strange ... very odd ... the birth of an invention called "The Pamper".  Unfortunately, there is only one use for a Pamper and today there are mountains throughout the United States dedicated to it.  Staten Island for example used to be a relatively flat island, now it holds tribute to this inglorious invention.   

Now, as the story goes, somebody put a rocking chair next to Brett Favre's locker as a joke, and it was Pat Williams that took to it.  Mr. Williams is senior to it and it has been well deserved only it grinds against my wishes in that I want Pat to be able to have many more good years to come.  Although Brett didn't say it, that rocking chair was the same as labeling him a game manager in that it probably chapped is hind quarters simply because it didn't fit.  You see, these two, Pat and Brett are going in opposite directions.  If I wanted to send Brett a message, maybe it would be with something very different.  Something more respectful of this highly unusual time.  For me, the only thing that comes to mind that fits is a cloth toddler diaper, as the way he's going, he just might need it someday soon.  You see, as my wonderful wife once pointed out to me, a cloth diaper has numerous uses, not just one ... just like Brett.  What looms within Brett's head isn't the normal retirement of just about every other player in this league ... for him, its something special.  When you watch this guy, and he does something that defies the very space time continuum ... as if he was on a school yard, or coming off a little league baseball diamond ... to me the only true tribute that somehow seems right lies within this simple piece of cotton cloth ... something that is real.  Believe me ... he'll get the message and he might even crack a smile.          
  
Reflections:
As for Chill's V-V, you're not going to get off that easy.  For Sass there are two games.

Correct me if I'm wrong but I could of sworn I saw some guy wearing #87 with a huge smile on his face that I'm going to have a tough time explaining to my wife.  It's that bad and it's that infectious.  The rewards come from being good to yourself, for if you are not, then who will be.  That was some truly inspired ball ... and it was just a matter of time.

It absolutely scares me to consider what might be next.  This Kluwe guy is on an absolute terror.  I had thought this kid shifted to the next level but now he's defying the laws of physics.  I think he's got one of Lieutenant Dan's magic legs.  

Am I alone out there, or is John Gruden, the Big "G", absolutely ripping apart the world of the commentators.  This guy may have aspirations toward returning to the coaching world however, when he does, the booth will have lost its favorite son.  There is a reason why ESPN logged its best Monday Night review ever and this character is a big part of it.  There's nothing like Chucky in-da-house, especially when the lights go low. 

Now the Big G, dropped the big one on us Monday.  He called it a two headed monster.  It's really a three headed monster.  Tell me, exactly what were you thinking when Da-G said, "Can you imagine Peterson facing a cover 2 scheme ... something this kid has never faced in his career".   Personally, to be direct, that statement first raised the hair up upon the back of my neck, and then sent a chill down my spine.  We dare not ever think of such a thing.

In watching that masterpiece on Monday, it became quite clear that there were numerous names branding their mark on this game.  Once again ... this isn't Brett's team ... it's not AD's team.  It is (put your name hear) team.  

The initial death strike came from what position?  For all intended purposes, after that toss, the game was over.  Even a pin prick to the heart is fatal.  

After the game, Brett mentioned a feeling that he had.  It was almost like a past day in Oakland and it was in reference to his father.  Truth be told, the ones truly close to us never leave us.  He was there ... it was plain as day.  His father has a message to deliver.  

Now onto the lighter side of something truly special.  Apparently it doesn't matter which goal line is in play for these Beserkers ... part men, part beast.  In fact, I could of sworn I heard "Da-G" call him, "This guy is an absolute beast!"  The 3rd head is stirring deeply within the cauldron ... resurrecting the ghosts of a Viking past.  Since these characters taught us to feed upon defensive prowess, like vampires to blood, I wonder if Eller, Page, Larson, and Marshall are watching today?  What must that steel-eyed stone faced coach think of this crew of misfits?  I'll bet they're kinda' giddy!  Playground's open boys!    

Black support hose and black balloons are the order of the day.  Move the snaps quickly to the youth as what is easy for some is particularly hard for you and what is hard for most becomes quite easy for you.  Do not linger on the exposure as there are many tired old bones to rest.  Do not be foolish.     

The Viking Ghost Writer
MyVikingBlood.org
Date: October 9, 2009