I’ve never been a Brett Favre fan. Favre throwing an interception in a key moment of a big game was (until this season) one of surest things in football. His annual I’ve-retired-no-I-haven’t peek-a-boo is tiresome. But seeing him turn 40 and play the best ball, statistically, of his long career, his gray hair and perpetual stubble looking out of place under his helmet, is turning me around. New Orleans is pounding him tonight and he keeps picking himself up. He’s hobbling after his left leg got whipsawed by 600 pounds of lineman. Win or lose he will be black and blue for a week. I thought tonight of the fight scene in Cool Hand Luke, where Dragline knocks Luke to the ground again and again. Each time Luke gets off the dirt and back in the fight, Dragline hits him in the jaw, and Luke is slower to get up. But get up he does, until he can no longer. The Saints are up by a touchdown with 7.26 left in the 4th quarter. Brett needs to lead the zillionth comeback of his career to pull this one out. He’s 40 years old, he’s had the crap beaten out of him, and he’s still smiling and firing the football. (He just floated a pass to Berrian in the end zone, which drew a pass interference call and gives the Vikings the ball on the NO 1.) Unlike this afternoon’s AFC Championship game, where I was rooting for both teams to lose, I’d like to see both New Orleans and Minnesota win. Maybe the Super Bowl can be an NFC-only affair.
Minnesota just tied the game, 28-28. There’s 4:58 left to play. Don’t throw the ball away, Brett.