The Glory Days – You Tube Clips and Memories.

Posted by Jayme Joers on August 17, 2010   Jump To Comments

Being just shy of 30, my story with the Packers is a relatively new one.  I grew up as they rose to glory.  I have vague memories of praying as a child for an 8-8 season (believing that if we could just be 50% good, everyone in my life would be much happier) and Don “Majik” Majkowski.  But for the most part, my life began with the trade for B Favre.  I grew up as Ron Wolfe masterfully assembled one of the best teams through trades and draft.  For people outside of the packer fan-dome world, this unique feeling like you share an experience with a team probably seems a little strange, a tad obsessive, but for me and most fans, it’s all I have known.

Its four in the morning right now.  I woke up as the dog we are dog-sitting shifted in bed and kicked me in the arm, so I checked my twitter.  A friend posted a link to some Robert Brooks highlights.   And I could not stop watching.

1.  Robert Brooks was the first real love of my life.  Forget B Favre.  Robert had it all for me.  I would listen to the Bob and Brian show in the mornings while waiting for my school bus, just to hear his interviews.  The song Jump in the Stands felt like a revelation to me.  At an arts and craft show I bought his trading card on a plaque for five dollars and used to bring it out into the living room for every game (so he could watch himself play).  There was something about his charisma, his complete affection for the fans that was infectious. After years of the great Sterling Sharpe being a little more than removed when it came to press and fan interaction, Robert was a breath of fresh air.  So I sat awake in the middle of the night, Rocky, the dog and SB, my boyfriend snoring away next to me, as I watched the you tube clips on my phone and my eyes starting to well up.  I laughed each time after a score as he would hurl his body into the air and end up leaping six rows deep into the stands.  Leroy Butler started the Lambeau Leap; Robert Brooks made a career out of it.  And so I sat there in the dark emotionally reliving the excitement, the dramatic plays, the passion that those years created in me and for my family and I could not help but wanting to cry; watching those clips was both a gift and a curse.

2.  B. Favre.  He’s everywhere in those clips.  And while I watched the plays giddy as Brooks made amazing cuts and smoked defenders, I also watched them with Favre scrambling in the pocket, threading a seemingly impossible pass in perfectly, and remembered the joy that he brought to me and my family.  And immediately I felt the pain in my gut that only fellow Packer fans share.  This is what so many non Packer fans or Favre apologists don’t understand.  I am not mad that he is playing football still.  I do not hear the name Favre and think interception.  I hear the name Favre, I see him looking amazing in those highlights and I’m pulled back into a world where my family gathered every Sunday and felt jubilation.  I am once again the pubescent girl sitting in the middle of our family room with friends and family willing the Packers to win.  As I grew up, the Packers got better, it seemed our life revolved around them, Holidays were happier, weekends more fun, because we were all in it together.  The bitter, childish way that the Packers and Favre split, makes watching those happy times feel like a lie.  Its probably completely over the top and a cry for professional help to say that he took those memories from me, but honestly it sometimes feels that way.  I can not watch those highlights without seeing him and scowling.  And that is not the reaction I want, nor “deserve” (although I do get it, I really don’t deserve anything, but still emotions are tough to be logical with).   That is what some people fail to understand even today.  The emotional tie wasn’t with Favre, great as he was, it was with the team, those moments, the times you as a fan shared with your friends and families.  So when the great divorce happened, you weren’t taking a side, you were a side.

Someday I hope to be able to not “extremely dislike him” (trying to move away from the word hate).  Someday I hope to be able to watch those same highlights and only feel blessed to have such memories and such a team to love.  But for now there is a sour taste in my mouth, even when I watch the happiest of clips.  And that is why I will never forget (nor am ready to forgive) you, Brent Favre.

You can email Jayme at Jayme@brentfavre.com or find her on twitter @jaymelee1