Back to the Mountaintop: The Return of Brett Favre

The salt-and-pepper beard and world-weary eyes define him now.

Once, Brett Favre was a jubilant, breathtaking daredevil who scurried around the field and launched airstrikes with his right arm. Now, he is the NFL's lion in winter, a cooler, calmer version 2.0 of the iconic Number 4 that Packer Nation worships.

Then, he had so much promise. He was as vibrant and dynamic as a football player could be, grinning and reckless to a fault, with an unmatched joie de vivre on the gridiron. He captured three consectutive Most Valuable Player awards, an NFL record, and led his Green Bay Packers back to glory.

He came into a game against the Cincinnati Bengals for injured starter Don Majikowski, led a fourth-quarter comeback, and has helmed the Packers for every game since. 

Favre was boyishly handsome and a media darling for his straight-shooting ways and his charming joy for playing the game.

And he was renowned for playing through pain, building on the legacy he established at the University of Southern Mississippi, where, six weeks after a car accident cost him much of his small intestine, Favre piloted the Golden Eagles to an upset of mighty Alabama.

But there were rough edges. Favre was a flawed hero, an admitted painkiller addict who was stubborn with his head coach, Mike Holmgren.

Favre was the Packers' new savior, the folksy, gritty leader who could take them soaring to the mountaintop. And he did: The team made two Super Bowl appearances in the late 1990s.

In Super Bowl XXXI, they romped over the New England Patriots in a game that saw Favre race the sidelines sans helmet after heaving a touchdown to Andre Rison.

But in Super Bowl XXXII, a heavily-favored Packers squad succumbed to wily veteran John Elway, in the twilight of his career, and the Denver Broncos' thresher of a ground game.

And then, Favre and his Packers went back down the mountain.

It was a slow descent, marked by Holmgren's departure for Seattle, an early playoff exit via Terrell Owens and Jeff Garcia here, an 8-8 season under Ray Rhodes there, and a gradual exodus of the Super Bowl-era talent from the Frozen Tundra.

Favre became the aging legend trying to hold on, a bombardier who couldn't hit the target. The recklessness that was courage in youth became stupidity in middle age, Favre's interception totals swelling as his passer rating plummeted.

He seemed an anachronism in the new-look NFL, the last of a dying breed, no more so than on the cold night at Lambeau when Michael Vick carved Nazca figures into the Lambeau Field turf while racing his Atlanta Falcons past the laggard Pack.  

Favre had his moments, like the indelible Monday night tilt against the Oakland Raiders a mere day after his beloved father, Irvin, passed away. The gunslinger returned, if only for a night, and Favre played a transcendent game.

But promising years were marred by key injuries, porous defenses, or Favre's own inconsistency, and the Packers were mediocre at best.

And his father's death was sadly just one of many tragedies. In 2004, Favre's brother-in-law, Casey Tynes, was killed in an ATV accident on Favre's Mississippi property, and Favre's wife, Deanna, was diagnosed with breast cancer. 

It reached a nadir with a 4-12 season in 2005. Favre had his worst career season while trying to carry a Green Bay team gutted by free agency and injuries, while, off the field, Hurricane Katrina reduced Favre's boyhood home in Kiln, Mississippi, to firewood and damaged his own home in Hattiesburg.

Green Bay fired head coach Mike Sherman after the 2005 season and replaced him with a surprising choice, unproven Mike McCarthy. The 2006 team would be an eerie mirror of its coach, exceedingly young and seemingly years from contending for anything.

Conventional wisdom held that Favre would not have the patience to play through a rebuilding period, and murmurs of dissatisfaction with Favre' refusal to step aside for the next generation echoed from the Green Bay front office.

Yet Favre, by this time engaged in annual soap operas about the possibility of retirement, chose to return.

And the Packers began a climb back to respectability.

In 2006, though Green Bay suffered the only two shutout losses of Favre's career, to the rival Chicago Bears and the decade's gold standard, the New England Patriots, the Packers closed with four straight victories, including an emotional Week 17 triumph over the Super Bowl-bound Bears.

While Favre teared up in postgame interviews, it was assumed he had played his last game in the NFL.

But he came back again.

And 2007 was arguably his best season ever, one of record-breaking, receiver-carrying and a return to dominance for the Packers, who posted a 13-3 mark and will open their playoff campaign on Saturday at Lambeau against ex-coach Holmgren and his Seattle.

Perhaps most surprising, it proved Favre could win games without rearing back for every pass; the gunslinger learned how not to fire away, and he uses his pistol almost exclusively now, pulling out the rifle only when necessary.

Favre changed his style, and the Packers changed their ways.

Now, after trading in wings for crampons, they're both back on the mountaintop.