Brett Favre The Tornado, In A Media Tralior Park
In Breaking Bad, Bryan Cranston plays Walter White, an under-achieving high school chemistry teacher that resorts to selling crystal-meth in order to leave some money behind for his family after receiving a terminal cancer diagnosis. It grows from there, and as the series progresses Walt at the end of season-three is almost unrecognizable from the Walt at the beginning of season one.

About a couple months ago, right after Brett Favre made the decision to return to the league for the third or fourth time (I’ve lost count, and at this point it doesn’t really matter so I’m not going to spend the ten seconds necessary to look it up), I was planning to drum up an article about how Brett Favre’s career has been the NFL equivalent of the fictional Walter White’s adulthood. I opted against it for a number of reasons, most notably because Favre is an arrogant prick, not necessarily the self-destructive arrogant prick Cranston depicted over three seasons of unbelievable television.

But that was two months ago.

(Note: I’m not in the habit of spoiling great television, so you should be warned, there are some brief, albeit significant spoilers ahead for Breaking Bad).

Now, in light of recent events, it seems the self-destructive moniker also applies to the Wrangler Spokesman. It’s one thing to develop an addiction to prescription pills in your mid-20′s, or to be constantly indecisive about your future while reveling in the attention…it’s a whole other issue entirely to be sending allegedly unsolicited pictures of your 40+ year-old junk to a coworker. At this point in his character arc, Walt was so far off the deep end he was mowing over drug dealers in his Aztec. Again, well past the point he should have retired.

Favre still has a shot at redemption though it’s doubtful he will seize it. Sure, the Vikings are still a viable contender this year and anyone who tells you differently is just echoing the masses and didn’t actually watch their last two games. But whatever his professional accolades may end up being when he finally does retire, I’m not certain they’ll overshadow the spectacle he’s turned himself into the past four years. Does anyone actually talk about his successes on the football field now? It’s either jokes about his endowment or his proclivity for unforced turnovers at the worst imaginable time. This isn’t exactly the stuff legends are made of, but Favre has had such a degree of success at various times throughout his career, he’s given a longer leash than most, but it seems to be snapping back on him.

Favre’s push and pull with fans is partly because we’ve seen him win regular season games time and again and expectations for him are at times too high (though 1999-2005 weren’t all that great in Green Bay, he still gets the benefit of the doubt), but mostly because when he’s on the biggest stage (the post-season) he tends to comes up short, and his bizarre off-field antics so overwhelm the headlines anytime he does anything. The last thing he needed was another distraction from his play, which to date in 2010, has been fairly mediocre.

But the Vikings remain hopeful. Despite the wisdom of that choice, they will endure all the credit or blame for how the franchise turns out after their unrelenting devotion to a man they used to hate. Both sides of the ball are starting to show their age, and management can see the window on their chance to win a Superbowl closing with this current group. As a result, they’ve pinned all their hopes on a forty-one year-old quarterback famous for playing with their rival for fifteen seasons. It might not be the wisest move, and right now I certainly wouldn’t pick them to make the Superbowl. But with the Packers floundering, the Lions being nothing more than a scrappy underdog and the Bears acting as the red-herring they’re now famous for…I don’t see why Minnesota couldn’t win this division and win it convincingly.

But that point is almost moot for Favre. Win a second title or not, Deadspin is still posting Favre updates and reactions on almost a daily basis concerning his attempts at a (possibly fruitless) rendezvous with the Jets hostess/reporter/otherwise useless eye candy Jenn Sterger, this coupled along with the traveling circus he happily accommodates every off-season, and his somewhat bizarre interactions with teammates and media, the only people who’ll forget about all of this if he hoists a Superbowl trophy (Note: while they’re still a contender this is still a long-shot, it always is) are those who work for the NFL, either by proxy (media members and sponsors) or directly (league executives, players, coach’s and the like).

This is what he has going for him. On the other hand, I don’t see a day when there’s a conversation about Brett Favre amongst me or anyone I know that doesn’t include a bit about his ego, his flaccid penis, his indecision, his postseason failures or any of his other vices. In most cases, the prime is what  the populace recalls in the cases of world-class athletes who were hesitant to hang it up. Michael Jordan, Jerry Rice, Ricky Henderson; when people mention these players the first thing their name conjures up is, for lack of a better term/word, glory days. Besting competitors in a game for  entertainment purposes is what restores the memory of those who retire with dignity, even if they do so at a slower pace than most.

In the cases of players such as Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, their professional achievements take a backseat to their public shaming and personal failures. In all likelihood, Favre will sulk among these ranks. Despite not doing anything illegal or ever breaking any rules (that we’re aware of), nothing he’s done off-the-field that made headlines in the past two seasons has been even remotely positive. At this point even his supporters are conflicted about him, since they tend to be either Packers or Vikings fans, and given that they’re divisional rivals, very few people are entirely on board.

The best thing you can say about him other than he’s a top ten all-time quarterback — and this is undeniable — is that he moves the dial like no one else from his generation. I personally do not understand it. He’s another great quarterback playing amongst other great quarterbacks in a long line of great quarterbacks to come before him and his peers. But for one reason or another, probably for all the reasons he’s loathed, the masses go out of their way to watch Brett Favre throw a football around semi-recklessly.

Even Walter White has redeemable qualities, however: he’s bright, cares about his family and Pinkman (even his affection is only demonstrated in spirit and not action) and is decidedly loyal. But after multiple opportunities to retire that hasn’t stopped Walter from the proverbial downward spiral, one that Favre, despite all his varying successes on the field, seems doomed to analogize.