William Shakespeare's Childress and Favre .
Act One, Scene One
In a simple room furnished with only a long oaken table sits Minnesota Vikings head coach Brad Childress, with team owner Ziggy Wilf in the background sitting barely illuminated.
Both of whom appear calm and serene. The scene takes place at the team’s Winter Park facility. Enter Brett Favre. Favre, agitated, nods but does not speak. Though December, an air conditioner hums in the room. After a moment of awkward silence, Childress speaks.
Childress: Greetings, friend. Thou art well, I presume?
Favre: Would’st thou not see with thine own eyes that I breathe a normal course?
Childress: Yes, thou gait seems purposeful, thou mind sharp as thy shepherd’s shears.
Childress: On then, to the matters at hand. It is regrettable thou feels thy slightest injury. Tis, indeed, this course seems to have led us astray.
Favre: If this course seems astray, it is because thou has rankled the edges of my peace.
Childress: How so?
Favre: By thou’s design to pulleth me from the field of combat, to throw my lot on the sidelines. Tis not thy destiny to watch the stage with thy head naked, the plumage of thy noble helmet cast in shame. How doth I sling the arrows of fortune from the shadows of battle? Doth Achilles slay Paris from behind the skirts of a tent?
Childress: No, true. He doth not. But, twas thou’s safety that dictates the course of action, to preserve thy strength for our common enemies, to keep thee strength. The day shall passeth where we meet Brees on the bloodied field.
Favre: Would’st thou deign me unworthy to fight each battle for its own merit?
Childress: Who can say? We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
Favre: (Becoming angry) Easy for thee to say.
Childress: Come, now. Tis a harsh world where things unpleasant happen.
Favre: I hold the world as the world; A stage where every man must play a part and mine is a sad one.
Childress: Indeed. Thou are feeling betray'd?
Favre: Yes, those that are betray'd, do feel the treason sharply. And more...thou’s design to prevent the audible. This too rankles my peace. Thou seeth these wounds? Thy art the wounds whose purchase is wisdom. On the field of battle, it is thy right to calleth thee audible.
Childress: Better not, for the skirmishes we call are mapped before thy enemy is in sight. Our honour’d Bevel pens a juicy script. And we deign to holdeth the game plan irrevocable and sound, just as the suns shines at daybreak.
Favre: In the heat of battle, doth not our path course as thy winds change. Surely, the course maketh change a profit to be gained. Thou seeks to impede the audible though the path becomes clouded in battle. Show me thy wounds compared to mine.
Childress: There must be order in thy command, thy commander’s rule thy law. And thou has deigned to throw a surfeit of interceptions from the loins of the audible.
Favre: Yet, if Achilles doth heed Agamemnon, then Troy is lost. Thy season’d hands, whose blood hath flowed freely, commandth the audible in the heat of battle.
Childress: We have breeched an impasse. Thou has ruin’d a trust. It is written, “To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as night follows day, thou canst be false to any man.”
Favre: Our interest concerns all who tread these halls. T’was not the plan to deal thee unkindly, but to make thy world a better place. Thy love for Bevel’s script fills this room with an odor most foul. Do not pretend it is otherwise.
Childress: (Realizes the truth of Favre’s words, says resignedly) If thy has tears, prepare to shed them now.
Favre: Tis nobler to suffer the slings of outrageous treason, than shed a single tear against thy stare.
Childress: We are done, then?
Favre: Yes, done, my Brutus. Done.
End of Scene.