Published: March 07, 2008 10:50 am         

Even the greatest of adventurers gets tired

The thing that confuses me the most about Brett Favre's retirement is, if you're a reporter who covers the NFL for a living and Brett Favre calls you on the telephone, how can you not be there to answer it?

That's how Favre broke the news of his retirement this week. He called ESPN's Chris Mortensen, one of the very best, one of the most in-the-know in the business, and left a message on his voicemail.

Now was it the voicemail on Mort's house or office phone, or was it the voicemail on Mort's cell? (And, yes, I feel so very Bermanish ... or boorish, which is the same thing ... when I call him Mort.) Does Mort even have an office? Does he even have a house? The only time I ever see him is on the ESPN set or in Honolulu covering the Pro Bowl.

Surely to goodness, if you're Chris Mortensen, a guy on the go seemingly at all times, and you're giving your phone number to Brett Favre, you're going to give him your cell phone number, right? And once you receive the message - maybe Mort was in the little sportswriter's room, or was with somebody who said, "If you answer that I swear I'll kill you," and couldn't answer - wouldn't you call Favre back to actually talk to him before handing over your voicemail to the sound techs in Bristol?

Yes, I'm very confused about this. Very confused, indeed.

Now, I'm not confused at all about Favre's retirement, although it did surprise me. Sure, like just about everybody else, I figured he'd come back for another try at the Super Bowl, seeing how he had such a good season last year and seeing how the last pass he threw was an interception in overtime of the NFC championship game, helping to keep the Green Bay Packers out of the Super Bowl. But maybe that's the whole point of his departure. He worked so hard last season and came so close, at age 38 he apparently feels he's not up to working that hard again.

Certainly he can still play, but there are no guarantees the young Packers would have had the same kind of run they had last year. A shot at the Super Bowl isn't promised to anybody. Ask Dan Foutz. Ask Dan Marino. Ask Favre himself. Between those three Hall of Fame quarterbacks, there were only three Super Bowl appearances, with Foutz coming up empty, Marino going to just one, and Favre splitting his two.

Favre's Super Bowls came in the prime of his career. Marino's came at the very beginning of his career, which brings to mind Cal Ripken Jr. The Orioles were in contention for the AL East until the very last day during Ripken's rookie year, and then won the World Series his second year. Seeing how the Orioles always won in those days, Ripken said, sure, he felt it was a given he would have another chance or two at a World Series ring, but, as we know, that didn't happen. As we said, there are no guarantees in professional sports, even for the greatest of players.

As for Favre's standing in history, certainly he has to rank as one of the four or five all-time greats since he holds nearly every quarterbacking record in the NFL, including the most wins. Personally, I can't rate any quarterback in my lifetime over Joe Montana and John Unitas, and even those guys played in two different eras, just as Favre ended up playing in a different era than even Marino and Montana did.

Rating the best of anything - other than pizza, of course, which I am absolutely correct about - is too subjective for it ever to be definitive. Having said that, there was never another quarterback I enjoyed watching more than Favre. Watching him play quarterback was like watching Huck Finn take a raft down the Mississippi. He was in his element at all times. It was always such a great adventure when he played, but he made it look like so much fun.

Favre was so good at what he did, which set him apart from the rest of us mere mortals, yet he was so Everyman that when he encountered problems along the way - his painkiller addiction, his wife's breast cancer, his father's death - we felt as though we encountered them with him because, doggonnit, we just like him so much.

We reveled with him when he played the game of his life that Monday night after his dad died, and we ached for him the following day when it was time for him to face the reality and the finality of it all.

Why did we? Who knows? We certainly didn't know him. He just made it seem as though we did, and there are very few stars in entertainment (which, let's not forget, pro football is) that have ever been able to pull that off.

How did he do it? Maybe because in real life, just as he was until the very end of "There's Something About Mary," he was just Brett. And wouldn't it be wonderful if more people that we actually know in real life could be that way?

There can be no denying Brett Favre will be missed. Without him, the NFL will be not as great, not as much fun, and not as likeable as it has been with him.

That's what made Brett Favre special. While millions and millions of people across this country claim they love and need pro football, Favre simply led you to like it, and to really enjoy it.

Kind of like guiding a raft along the calm of the Mississippi.

Contact Mike Burke at mburke@times-news.com.