I’m happy that the Favre circus is finally over (please, please, please don’t restart the melodrama). Jim Souhan pulls no punches in letting the guilty parties know:
Brett Favre, the Hamlet of Hattiesburg, finally made a decision, finally told the Vikings that, after teasing them for months, he intends to remain retired.
Favre should be ashamed of himself for toying with an entire organization. The Vikings should be ashamed of themselves for investing hope and faith in the most self-absorbed great quarterback in NFL history.
Favre was the Vikings’ human lottery ticket, and the Vikings today feel like anyone who ever wasted their money on a long shot. The initial rush of adrenaline has been replaced by nausea and regret.
[. . .]
Vikings coach Brad Childress, who kept his players in the dark while winking at Favre, now must pretend that he was a luxury instead of a necessity, that his current quarterbacks are good enough to win a playoff game, that this 12-car pileup of a courtship was nothing more than a fender bender. Nothing to see here, folks; please move along.
Jackson and Rosenfels will sheepishly take first-team snaps early in camp, knowing the Vikings preferred a 40-ish serial retiree coming off arm surgery over them.
It’s that last part that really stings: how can you expect either Jackson or Rosenfels to act as if they have the full backing of the coaches and the ownership after this five-act farce? Jackson has already had the confidence-sapping experience of being benched for an extended period, while Rosenfels came to town finally believing he’d been given the chance to earn the starting role. Yet the Vikings clearly wanted someone else to come in and take the helm.
The only thing worse that the Vikings could do now is to start flirting with the idea of signing Michael Vick.