Mike Burke
Had a girlfriend. We were together for what seemed like decades, so, after she dared me to do so several times, I finally retired from her. And trust me, there were no tears shed at the press conference when I announced my retirement to my roommates.
But what do you know? Weeks into my retirement, I got restless. I still felt I had game. I still felt I had the desire, the passion, the ... well, you know. And this refound belief in my game had nothing to do with my finding out my ex was counting on a younger man to take over at my old position (and heck, I was only 23 at the time).
So there was a younger man ready to step in and reap the rewards of all the hard work I had done through the years; a younger man who my ex-girlfriend's sister took great pleasure in telling me made her sister "feel like a natural woman?"
(Of all the sisters from wrecked relationships in all the world, Carole King has to comment on mine. Besides, Dr. Frankenstein couldn't make that girl feel like a natural woman.)
She was moving on without me, and even though I was not influenced by this information (no, not much), I called my old girlfriend and told her I had changed my mind and wanted to come back. She said no, that she had her guy. He was the future. And he probably would have been, too, if not for that cocktail waitress in Georgetown he abruptly moved in with.
Nonetheless, I persisted. I had had a change of heart. I figured we had at least one, maybe two good years left in us, so I made my intentions clear to her that I was interested in making a comeback. I felt entitled to a comeback, after all, for all I had done for the relationship.
(Although I will admit she did save my life once. Still, I took her to a lot of Orioles games.)
She offered to shower me with gifts to stay away. It was a daring public relations move, but I wouldn't bite. For if I did, I would look foolish, greedy and like a girly man. Besides, everything she was offering me, including a Boston Celtics Starter jacket, was something she had already given to me over the years as gifts, but was holding hostage, because that's the kind of vindictive little tart she was.
(She also had a left uppercut to the ribs that Joe Frazier would have died for. God, I loved that woman.)
Anyway, once the cocktail waitress in Georgetown burst onto the scene, my former girlfriend reconsidered my offer. She told me I could have all of my stuff back only on the condition that I took her back with it. But, she said, I would have to work and study harder this time around. She said it wouldn't be as easy this time around as it was the last time, as though having Jake LaMotta for a girlfriend was ever easy. It would almost be like a tryout, she said, even though I had been the face of our relationship for years (except for the night she saved my life, of course).
I agreed, and we agreed to work things out. We were to be a team once more and I could go back to being myself. On paper, we looked unbeatable, and we were. For about a week. But I was getting no appreciation for all I had done in the past. I felt above having to prove myself all over again, so one day I turned to my former ex-girlfriend, looked deep into her eyes and gently said, "You're animal crackers, lady. Not only am I afraid of you, I'm out of here."
In love and in football, it is as Thomas Wolfe once said, "You can't go home again." (Well, I don't know if he actually said it, but it was the title of a novel he wrote.) Or maybe Mick Jagger and Keith Richards said it best: "You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometime, you might find you get what you need." Or, maybe Frank Drebin said it best when he said, " ... I bought her a harp for Christmas. She asked me what it was."
But really, I do know how Brett Favre feels. He thought he was just going to show up, cruise through Packers camp and continue being Brett Favre, All That Is Good And Right About Green Bay. But he was told the rules had changed in just a short time. Or maybe he is just so self-involved he doesn't believe the rules apply to him. He was told he was going to have to work harder than he imagined, and even then there would be no guarantees.
(Which is not unlike going to school in the morning ready to cruise because you know you are going to have a substitute teacher in English. Then, when you walk through the door to English class, you find that your substitute teacher for the next week is ... Mrs. Dawson! Yes, of course, you love Mrs. Dawson, but when Mrs. Dawson subs, you work a lot harder in class than when your regular teacher is there, and then there are no guarantees that you're not going to work harder tomorrow.)
Yes, Brett, it does seem unfair at the time. But, as you found out early Thursday morning when the Packers traded you to the New York Jets, regardless of how well you've performed in the past, you pay for your repeated changes of heart, you're put in your place for feeling entitled (even if that feeling might be warranted), and if you get the feeling through the course of the process that you're not wanted, then you likely aren't.
You think you were viewed as a drama queen in Wisconsin? Wait until the New York tabloids go to work on you.
Everybody wanted to see this thing come to a merciful end, but nobody wanted to see it end this way - other than, perhaps, Packers general manager Ted Thompson. Brett Favre a New York Jet and not a Green Bay Packer? Hey, Brett Favre is the one who made that choice - not once, but at least twice.
Contact Mike Burke at mburke@times-news.com.
