SZVETITZ COLUMN: Favre should stay retired

Brett Favre still wants to play football.

He’ll be 75 and still want to. And probably could.

But that’s not the point.

It’s in a football player’s DNA to always feel like he can still play. The heart never gives up, even if the body does.

That’s just the way it is. Football gets in the blood and nothing can get it out. Especially for a guy like Favre.

Favre will always believe he can play. Heck, show me a football player who doesn’t.

But, again, that’s not the point.

The point is sharper than that. And it cuts right to the heart that made Brett Favre, well, Brett Favre.

It’s time for Favre, the carefree gunslinger with the smile of an 8-year-old boy who just hooked his first bass, to ride off into the sunset. For good.

As much as he doesn’t want to, it’s time.

As much as he believes he can still compete as an elite quarterback in the National Football League, it’s time.

As much as his arm can still fire a 15-yard out route with the same velocity as a shotgun, it’s time.

Brett, it’s time.

And it’s not because he’s getting older. Guys like Favre stay young forever.

His age has nothing to do with it. Nor does his talent or his will to win. None of those has ever been disputed ... never will.

But what makes this such a sad and sensitive case is Favre’s unwillingness to let go.

You might never outgrow the game, but the game, unfortunately, outgrows you.

And Favre is holding on to his No. 4 jersey like that same 8-year-old boy who doesn’t want to believe it’s past his bedtime.

And that fact that he’s holding the Packers hostage (and believe me, the Packers are in a no-win situation with this) just stinks.

And it’s sad. And that’s the point.

I don’t want to remember Brett Favre as the guy who refused to hang it up.

I don’t want to remember Brett Favre as a guy who cut ties with the franchise that gave him so much because he didn’t want to come back and fight for his job.

I don’t want to remember Brett Favre as the guy who came out of retirement so he could play for the Houston Texans.

I don’t want to remember Brett Favre as the guy who threw more interceptions than touchdowns.

I don’t want to remember Brett Favre as a washed up, beat up (gasp) second-string quarterback.

And I sure don’t want to remember Brett Favre like I remember Michael Jordan.

I want to remember Brett Favre as the guy who ran around like Jimmy Valvano while winning Super Bowl XXXI.

I want to remember Brett Favre as the guy who got in Warren Sapp’s face.

I want to remember Brett Favre as the guy who threw for 399 yards and four touchdown passes on Monday Night Football the day after his father died.

I want to remember Brett Favre as a Green Bay Packer.

I want to remember Brett Favre as the guy who loved the game so much, he knew when to let it go.

The point isn’t about if he can play, but why would he want to?

He’s achieved everything a football player ever dreams of: A Super Bowl ring, three MVP seasons, all the passing records anyone cares about, a shoe-in first-ballot Hall of Famer and football immortality.

Sure, coming out of retirement could add to all those things. And how great would that be?

But at what cost?

You can pad your stats all you want, but you can only take away from your legacy.

MIKE SZVETITZ is sports editor of the Opelika-Auburn News. He may be reached at or 737-2513.