Walking off the 18th green of Cedar Creek on Sunday near noon with a newly sunkissed face, a scorecard that said under 90 next to my name for the first time, and surprisingly only one Captain and Coke consumed (sober golf?!!?) there was only one thing I wanted to do next.
Watch football. No celebration of golf superiority despite besting my score from just last month by nearly 20 strokes, just Purple Jesus and maybe a Fat Tire or Blue Moon on tap.
The much hyped Vikes finally took the field to play a game that counted meaning the ghosts of Spergon Wynn and practice squaders would no longer pile onto the field looking for a roster spot. It meant Brett Favre’s debut for the purple and gold to play a game he hasn’t been asked to do before.
Manage it, not win it.
The gunslinger persona was put into the saddlebags to allow one of the league’s best rushing games to form with the cushion of a competent quarterback and not allowing the defense to stack nine in the box. Those who grew up on the Favre bandwagon and hoisted the country boy up to hero status may have had a slight jerk WTF reaction to seeing their lofty future hall-of-famer go 14 for 21 with 140 yards and only one touchdown as the Vikes won their opener against the Browns.
In this fan’s mind that was perfect.
He managed the game. Favre didn’t wildly smack the mascot in the entrance tunnel after overthrowing the line judges by 10 yards, hit a DB in stride down the middle of the field with Berrian and Rice streaking down the sides, he did exact what he was brought here to do.
Not lose the game.
Of course as the season rolls on I’m sure the 50 yard hail mary-like passes of Favre's past to Sterling Sharpe will creep into the game due to Rice’s leaping ability, Harvin’s and Berrian’s speed the Vikes wouldn’t be utilizing Favre’s ability if that wasn’t part of the game plan. But the days of 35 to 45 attempts are gone, replaced by Purple Jesus making highlight runs now that he doesn’t have to run through the thick underbrush of the Amazon to see daylight or Chester Taylor catching one out on the flat for 15 yards.
Much like the star employee who developed the cool new database and always produced the big numbered sales results moving up from cubical hell to the skyline view of the city behind the oak desk with his name displayed prominently near his family picture and college degree, Favre has moved up to management. If he allows Purple Jesus, a nasty defense, and decent O-line to do their jobs this team will not lose often this year and my Viking brick won't punish the new TV in the porch every Sunday.
As for that Pats game last night, anyone think the Bills kicker returner was paid off after Brady finally got the offense clicking with the final gun about to sound? It was an easy call that Wonderboy would take care of business from Bills territory after the fumble, but who slipped McKelvin a few greenbacks so the sportswriters and ESPN could tickle Brady’s left nipple with headlines of HE’S BACK!!!!11oneoneoneone
No, he wasn’t back. The Bills had the upset wrapped up in Gisele’s lacy black Biofit DD bra (ok I couldn't find the black one, check with Al I'm sure he's got one at the Borgata) and fumbled the boob holder’s back hooks like a band camp virgin. Thank you Buffalo for allowing Dawn Summer’s Pats bandwagon to pick up the yolk and start traveling again like nothing happened.
And what the hell was Brady attempting while making the Matron Saint of KSK run for a quick post-game interview? Did Dreamboat forget his souffle in the oven? Ass.