Jeff Pearlman’s new book sheds some new light on just how frosty the Brett Favre/Aaron Rodgers relationship really was.
That there was conflict there shouldn’t have been a surprise. Beyond the normal generational issues that arise when the veteran has his obvious replacement on the roster. And both men have their own particular personality quirks that were always going to grind some gears; namely, both men are never going to think they’re not the best quarterback on any particular team.
But the book, excerpted on Bleacher Report, has some crazy details of their relationship:
Rodgers and Favre finally met on June 2, when the Packers came to town for a seven-practice organized team activity camp. Now merely a head coach (and a disgruntled one at that), Sherman allowed Favre to skip the workouts, but that didn’t mean he would not attend. In fact, that morning Favre was alone, sitting in the team cafeteria and reading a newspaper, when Rodgers saw him in person for the first time. The new quarterback approached the old quarterback and uttered what will forever go down as the worst introductory line in the history of professional sports.
“Good morning, grandpa!”
Silence.
Rodgers surely recognized the mistake as soon as the words emerged from his lips. But there was no taking it back. “Brett couldn’t believe that,” said Craig Nall, the backup quarterback. “It was like, ‘Grandpa? Who the hell are you?’”
Welp. That’s… not great. But Pearlman paints a picture of a far more one-sided abuse, from Favre to Rodgers:
That was bad. What happened weeks later was significantly worse. Every so often the team placed varied items on a locker room table for the players to sign. Most were donated to charity. On this particular day one of the things to be autographed was a replica Packers helmet. Favre eyed it, turned to Nall and said, “You know what would be funny? If we put someone’s real helmet out there.” The next morning Rodgers arrived at the facility and could not locate his helmet. He looked, asked around—nothing. Most of his teammates were in on the joke and chuckling to themselves. Chad Clifton, an offensive tackle, told Rodgers that the marketing staff needed him to sign the items on the table. Rodgers grabbed a pen and, without knowing, scribbled “Aaron Rodgers” in black Sharpie on his own helmet. He walked onto the field still searching for his headgear. An equipment staffer finally brought him the one covered in ink. “Aaron,” he said, “this is yours ….”
That’s also not great.
As Pearlman notes, it’s a relationship that never really had a chance, but the portrayal of Favre is not flattering; the veteran comes across as, well, a little kid.
Maybe that shouldn’t be surprising, given how Favre played on the field.
And this doesn’t even factor in the subsequent years of Favre’s will they/won’t they dalliance with retirement, that eventually led to his playing for the Jets and rival Vikings.
In any case, it’s a nice glimpse at the kind of friction that likely goes on behind the scenes each season, that wasn’t going to get reported by a media that tended to protect Favre more often than not.
