cc: Manny Ramirez
Before I begin rambling aimlessly, I must start this letter by sincerely thanking Manny Ramirez. When I heard that you, Brett, were contemplating reneging on retirement again, I about lost it. I told my Facebook friends that I wanted someone to start a Favre steroids scandal so you’d disappear like Barry, Mark or Roger.
That didn’t happen. But something better did. Manny went Manny, got caught with female fertility drugs in his system and replaced you from the center of the World Wide Leader’s home page. Then you tried to steal Manny’s thunder by saying that you weren’t coming out of retirement that afternoon. But it didn’t work. Manny plus steroids > you doing anything but dying.
So again, thank you, Manny, for being you.
Now, Brett I know you’re an attention monger. That’s why I don’t believe you’re sincere in your contemplation of unretiring your re-retirement status. I believe that you’ll stay retired as much as I believe Rod Blagojevich is innocent and Jim Carrey’s character in “Liar, Liar” before his son’s birthday wish. Seriously, with Manny going Manny, I won’t be surprised if you sign with Minnesota by Tuesday morning.
I have some sincere advice for you, though: Buy yourself a rocking chair and go sit down somewhere. Preferably in Mississippi. You’re not going to do anything but embarrass yourself like Chuck Liddell has the last six times he’s stepped into the UFC cage. You’re not George Foreman. You’re not going to win the Super Bowl with one haymaker-like Hail Mary TD pass akin to the one that floored Michael Moorer.
Even more, you’re only going to further prove that you’re what Skip Bayless would call Team Obliterator 2.0. Yes, I’m saying you have something in common (cue Bobby & Whitney) with Terrell Owens. (Maybe you should try signing with Buffalo? You and TO could be the dynamic duo of NFL drama.)
Think about it. You destroyed the Packers 2008 season with your indecision. And then you did it again in New York, and supplanted yourself as a surefire John Legend track No. 8 (He’s the current king of the break-up-to-make-up song. See: “Ordinary People” or “Again”).
OK, you may not know who John Legend is. So let’s try this: Your NFL career the past three years reminds me of Kenny Chesney’s “You Win, I Win, We Lose” looped every six months or so.
As loaded as Minnesota is, Ziggy Wolf would be foolish to sign you. Seriously, you’d screw up every last dream Tavaris Jackson has of being an NFL MVP quarterback. You and Adrian Peterson might combine for 45 touchdowns, but you’d have just as many fumbles between you. Worse yet, you might drive Jared Allen back to the bottle. And we all know he doesn’t need to use the words drinking and driving again in the same sentence ever again (none of us should).
You had a great career. You’ve thrown more touchdowns than anyone. You’ve also thrown more interceptions, too. You played the game like Benny the Jet in “The Sandlot,” and that’s why people love you so much. It’s commendable. But it’s time for you to grow up. You don’t play the game to throw childish interceptions or wing-and-a-prayer touchdowns.
ESPN analyst and former Chiefs’ coach Herm Edwards would tell you why you play the game, and I don’t think you have too many more wins in you. You know what happened to your arm at the end of your season with the Jets. We all saw it. Hang up the No. 4 gracefully, please.
You’re no Montana, Manning or Brady. And you’re definitely no Elway — you’re not going to go out on top like Denver’s No. 7. Your consecutive-games streak is impressive, but Cal Ripken’s is better. Besides, it’s just showing up for work. It’s like showing up for every fourth day of school from kindergarten to your senior year, getting Bs and Cs while trying to dodge the bullies. Sounds no different than “Everybody Hates Chris.” I know some people will see that as blasphemy, but they need to realize that you’re just an above-average player with great longevity.
But they can’t because ESPN’s executives love you as much, if not more, than they love hiring general managers as commentators who lead teams to 0-16 seasons after selecting 12 first-round wide receivers (seriously, how do you hire Matt Millen to do anything aside from shovel snow for Detroit Lions season ticket holders?).
No matter. Stop thinking you’re Michael Jordan or Jay-Z. You’re not going to fade to black, come back and takeover the Lombardi Trophy again. If you come back (and I still believe you will), winning should be your goal, not sticking it to Green Bay. Trust me, vengeance and running the rumor mill gets you nowhere.
You know winning isn’t realistic. So stay home. Go hunt. Go fish.
Better yet, go take care of your kids so they don’t end up like Manny and his friends.