West Side Stories

A Tosa resident for almost 20 years, Karen is a mom and freelance writer, addicted to playing tennis. When not on the tennis court, she spends the fall and winter in the stands at Green Bay Packer and Marquette basketball games.

Karen is the author of “Grab a Bite,” a dining out column and the former community columnist for the Wauwatosa NOW newspaper.

Another Letter to Brett Favre


Dear Brett Favre (Part 2),

When our son was about three years old, he had this cute little thing he would do. He’d walk up to everyone in the room and boldly ask: “Want to see my bird show?” Of course, we’d say yes. He’d then proceed to stand on a step stool and do nothing. Absolutely nothing. We’d sit patiently and pretend to be interested. We knew back then, that he had zero interest in birds and 100% interest in getting attention.

Brett, I think we’re all witnessing your own personal bird show. This is no longer about football. This is no longer about getting revenge on Ted Thompson. Now, it’s clear that this is about you getting attention, something you just can’t give up. I’m serious when I say there should be a rehab center for ASD (Attention Surplus Disorder.)

I really hoped that the next time I wrote you a letter would be five years from now when you were inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. I was all geared up to forgive you…then. But now, your mid-life crisis has reared its ugly head again (I think it’s called Manopause) and you’re about to don the dreaded purple while that godawful horn blows in the background.

I can’t really blame you. The Vikings were begging for help at quarterback and you got the three things that matter the most to you – money, attention and the opportunity to miss a big chunk of training camp. Well done.

That’s fine. Totally your right to do so. Enjoy the Twin Cities. Far be it from me to remind you of how the Metrodome was your own personal House of Horrors for many years. Hope your private dressing room is soft and cushy so you can rest those almost-40-year-old bones before you head home to your condo in Edina. (I’m told the name of your new town stands for Every Day I Need Attention.)

Oh, but I should warn you: If things don’t go well in Minnesota, don’t expect warm fuzzies from the Packer faithful. We’re a crabby bunch, right now, especially those of us who are falling off the Brewer bandwagon. We’ve turned our thoughts to the Packers and the 3-4 defense. Now we’re circling November 1st on our calendars when we’re hoping to see BJ Raji bust through your line to welcome you back, face-first, to the frozen tundra.




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