Time for Brett Favre to retire … for real this time

Imagine if I walked into my boss’s office tomorrow morning and said this:

Me: “Excuse me, but I have an announcement to make.”

Boss: “What’s that, Casey?”

Me: “I tested out my battered, veteran fingers while writing stories for high school kids, and I just can’t do it anymore. Not at the championship level that I’m used to performing, anyway. So this is it – a storied, LPA-winning career – now officially complete in beautiful Houma. I thank you for your opportunity.”

Boss: “OK, that’s fine. Thanks for your commitment, and have a nice life.”

OK, OK, maybe they wouldn’t be so nice if I retired at the ripe-old age of 23. But play along and use your imagination. It’s not quite football season just yet. I know you have nothing better to do than read my brilliant musings and play along with my newspaper games.

Sticking with our game, imagine if two weeks later, I walked into the same office with fresh tape on my fingers and a new coat of eye-black on my eyes with a crisp, No. 4 TPT jersey with Gisclair stitched across the back. But this time, the conversation went like this:

Me: “I’m back. I’m ready to go. Let’s chase Newspaper of the Year for a record fourth-straight year.”

Boss: “Um, what happened to retiring?”

Me: “I was … just kidding. Those Tuesday morning meetings we have; I don’t need those. I just was doing some resting.”

Boss: “Sorry, but we’ve moved on and are going with someone else. Good luck in your future endeavors.”

That’s what would happen in the real world – or at least that’s what I think would happen. And more importantly, that’s what needs to happen this time around as Favre plays the little hostage game he likes to play every summer where he pretends to retire, then says, “Oops, jay kay, put me in coach,” approximately 35 minutes before the season starts and attempts to ride his team to glory one last time – even though “one last time” has lasted for what seems like 10 years now.

Enough already.

It’s absolutely ridiculous.

And the Vikings need to put a stop to it right now and just move on to the Tavaris Jackson era.

Because hey, if I’m not mistaken, it was Favre who cost you a trip to the Super Bowl last season with a costly fourth quarter interception.

Granted, without Favre they might not have been in the big game in the first place, but in the words of the great Ricky Bobby, “If you ain’t first, you’re last.”

I’m a pretty forgiving person. Terrell Owens is my favorite football player, and Tracy McGrady is my favorite basketball player. I believe in second chances.

So from what I understand, the first comeback was because of the love for the game. The second comeback was to seek revenge on the Packers for what he deemed was betrayal. The third comeback was to try and win one last Super Bowl. What is this fourth one going to be? Because you know it’s going to happen three or four weeks from now when Tavaris Jackson throws two picks in a preseason game, and Sage Rosenfels dives head first for a first down, only to be battered by a pair of linebackers.

I’ll tell you what it’s going to be: a joke.

An absolute joke and mockery of what giving someone your word should mean. And that’s truly sad, because Favre is or was (I don’t even know what tense to put the word) a great player.

I want to remember Favre for being the risk-taking gunslinger who overcame inferior teams and non-passing friendly weather to win big games. I want to remember the guy who had the most epic Monday Night Football performance of all-time just a day after his father’s passing. That’s the Favre I’d like to know and tell my children about.

But in the past few years, it really feels like we forget that Favre is No. 1 in the NFL record books for virtually everything, but instead remember the flip-flopping and the Favre Watch and all of the other things about him.

And it’s not like he’s helping matters any with the self-mockery commercials.

So with the season inching closer and closer to beginning, please, pretty please, Brett stay at home. We don’t need this drama anymore. It’s like seeing a bad movie for a fifth time.

Or better yet, dear Vikings management, why don’t you just go ahead and make the decision for him and not welcome him back.

Aren’t you tired of being a hostage?

The entire sports world certainly is.

Don’t look for this little reporter to be crying, “Wolf,” or rather, “Favre,” this time around. It’s time the little liar gets what’s coming to him – a stern no from Vikings’ owner Zygi Wilf.

Enough is enough.