I know that it was the right decision and the right time, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. This may sound silly to those of you who don’t obsess over football, but my relationship with Favre has been the longest relationship I’ve had with any man other than my father. We’ve never had a conversation; I’ve never been closer than row 12 to him; I don’t even know his middle name – but he was welcomed into my home every weekend since I was in eighth grade. He brought my entire family together and united an entire state when we were desperate for a Packer win. He ignited my passion for football. He was there in 1997 when I watched the Packers win the Superbowl and got so drunk I puked for the first time. I cried for him when he played through the pain the day after his father died. I prayed for him when he was battling his own addictions. I rooted for him in bars across Virginia and Alaska when I was the only Packer fan in the room. Regardless of what the ‘experts’ say about Favre being exceptional, but not the best – no matter how many times they say he didn’t win the most Superbowl rings or that he wasn’t consistent enough - Brett will always be my quarterback. He will always be the best in my book and I will always be grateful for the memories that he has given me. Thank you, Brett. You will be missed.