Dear Brett Favre...

Dear Mr. Brett Favre,

First of all I wanna commend you on a GREAT career. You're a GREAT football player, definite Hall of Famer one day in the future. I mean come on, you've won a Super Bowl... Thrown to great recievers... You've seen alot of things during your career [The OJ Chase, Tupac, Biggie, The Unibomber, 9/11... amongst other events]. Hell, you were so fly, your first completed pass was to YOURSELF [when you played for the Falcons]. You're an ICON Brett. But I ask you, please... I implore to you... DO NOT PLAY ANOTHER FCKIN YEAR in the NFL. Just stop man, STOP. You're paid. I mean, I understand "The Love of The Game"... We went thru that with MJ [TWICE.] and Hakeem Olajuwon. Hell, we had to sit thru that damn Kevin Costner movie, [ironically called, FOR THE LOVE OF THE GAME]. But Brett, you've had it. You're done. I mean the Jets experiment was a good thing up until you started showing your age and missed the playoffs. And I wont front, I enjoyed the soap opera drama that ensued before you signed with them.

But, lets be real... You weren't gonna sign with the VIKINGS. You would've been lynched once you stepped foot in Green Bay. Your kids go to school there... Come on dude. Be real. You wouldn't have made a difference anyway, because you would just hand it off to Adrian Peterson. You had no recievers [Sidney Rice, USC WHAT UP!?] It would've been a ho-hum year. So the surgery, the rehab was for what? Just to tell the coach, " you didn't think you had enough in you to get through a full season."? Damn yo. Now he gotta do damage control with his other 2nd tier QB's... But it aint yo fault Brett. I dont blame you...

It's that damn "Love of the Game" BS yall players throw around when you can't come to grips with reality... oh yeah, that's called "DENIAL".

So chill in Mississippi Brett. Cut some grass... Fish... Do some more Wrangler Jeans commercials... Get your dough before you get that award in Canton. Just don't bring your ass back on an NFL playing field... Unless your coaching or what not...

Sincerely Yours,
Najee R. Browman