Brett Favre's Fall from Innocence

Is it over yet? Is it safe to come outside?

With the apocalypse upon us these days, I try to play it pretty safe. How can I be so sure that the apocalypse is imminent, you ask?

Well I'm pretty sure it says in the Good Book something about the world not lasting too much longer after Brett Favre is actually disparaged by the major print media.

I never thought it would happen in my lifetime, not with John Madden's idol worship and the traditional media turning a collective blind eye to the Great One's physical foibles.

But Favre has managed to hack away his public sainthood like any number of his postseason passes that land ever so comfortably in the arms of the opposition.

Thousands of years from now, when anthropologists are studying our civilization and are seeking to split the NFL into PF (Pre-Favrian) and AF (After Favre) eras, what will be their reference point?

Behold the moment that will serve as the paradigm shift for all things football:

The Greta Interview

This interview will become the Zapruder film for Favre's PR plunge. Remember the last time you went to the Japanese steakhouse and they cooked the food in front of you? Maybe your cook was a little sweatier than you would have preferred, but whatever, whatever.

The food was really good and you were stuffed after dinner. Your girl then wanted you to walk around Barnes and Noble for a while and you did....And then your stomach started bubbling, and you ran the 40 yards to the customer bathroom in 4.8 seconds. The Japanese steakhouse is not so good anymore, eh?

THAT'S Favre on Greta.

Really? Mort was busy? Jay Glazer was unavailable? John Clayton probably creeped him out, sure, but I mean GRETA?

And then to hear the whiny words spilling out of his mouth throughout the interview was truly spellbinding. All jokes aside, it was unforgettable because of all the things I thought about Favre, the one I won't be able to forget is him in his Stetson-casual look, pulling his amateur-hour tantrum on Fox News.

His biggest miscalculation was how the interview destroyed his most powerful attribute, his everyman quality. Part of the blind romance everyone's had with Favre was how in another life, we could be working the second shift with him.

His addiction, his wife's breast cancer, his jovial field manner, and, let's face it, his whiteness, all contributed to a common perception of, "That's how I would be if I were a quarterback."

He is unique because, while other athletes can be crappy people and we still root for them, Favre, more than anyone else, leaned on his public perception.

But when he sat down with Greta and began his diva act, it was so shocking because we all had to consider, "Is this what he's always been like?" And with that, Favre's magical hold on all of us began to dissipate.

It will be largely impossible for any of us to forget the most recent developments, as they have served as the final act in Brett's NFL career.

If he comes back to the Packers, wins a Super Bowl with the Jets, or definitively tells us what happened to Tony Soprano, it won't matter. Regardless of how things turn out, Favre's removal of his everyman mask during the Greta interview did more damage than playoff embarrassments, personal scandals, or anything else ever could.

It made us reconsider our thoughts about him as a person, or run to a Barnes and Noble bathroom, if you will.