Favre had farther to fall

Brett Favre, of all the quarterbacks, was privilege-free. That is why we respected the rest of them and loved him.

That is why his jersey dominated the shops at the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport BEFORE he played for the Vikings, and when he was breaking purple hearts as a member of the Green Bay Packers.

He beat mighty Florida State when he was quarterbacking Southern Mississippi, an occasional football power to which he gave his whole career. He also beat Alabama, a month after a serious car accident.

He was drafted in the second round by the Falcons and eventually drank his way onto the trading block, and Atlanta committed a blunder that would haunt for at least a decade. He needed his edges smoothed over by Mike Holmgren in Green Bay, but he never doubted his ability to fit a 14-ounce football into a four-inch hole, and his teammates never did either.

He was a leader, a stoic, a prankster, a guy who wasn’t afraid to upchuck on the field if it meant he would keep his streak of 297 consecutive games intact, a feat that encompasses all football players. For a quarterback to do that is like a goalie doing that in hockey. And he did it all with that faintly irrepressible I-know-something-you-don’t grin.

Favre was the guy we’d all volunteer to share a huddle with, if only we could qualify. But there was fiber underneath the foolishness. On Dec. 21, 2003 his dad Irv died of a heart attack. Irv was his high school coach in Kiln, Miss, the one who believed in him even though he rarely let him pass. The next day was a Monday Night game at Oakland. Favre not only played, he threw four touchdowns in the first half.

So that is why this Mississippi issue, the one in which Favre and ex-governor Phil Bryant took welfare money, meant to feed the hungriest children in America, and siphoned it off for their own self-indulgence, is so off-key and antagonizing.

When Curt Schilling bilked Rhode Island out of millions for his video-game company, you shook your head and shrugged because you could always see Schilling doing that. Blarney and posturing were always his game. Favre always seemed to be the enemy of the con artists, the guy who could see through them just like he made free safeties dance with his eyes. Now he’s the guy who ripped off Mississippi taxpayers just for the sake of Being Brett Favre. It feels like a betrayal, but that happens when we confuse accomplishment with heroism.

In 2017 Favre worked to get $5 million to build a volleyball stadium at Southern Mississippi because his daughter was playing there. Bryant authorized the payments to Favre, according to Nancy New, who ran a non-profit that allocated welfare funds. New is charged with 13 felony counts and is cooperating with prosecutors. Taking such money and putting it into the construction of buildings is a violation of federal law.

Favre and Bryant have not been charged with anything. When an attorney representing the state tried to issue a subpoena for documents related to the stadium, and called the deal ‘a sham” and “fraudulent,” he was fired by Gov. Tate Reeves.

Once Favre realized that he needed more money to finance the volleyball facility, he proposed that he could raise it by naming the building after Bryant.

The FBI is investigating, but Favre hasn’t even been asked to provide a deposition.

This comes on top of Favre repaying the state $1.1 million, money it gave him to make four speeches on behalf of a community education program. Favre never got around to making those speeches.

It doesn’t help that residents of Jackson, the state capital, have been dealing with brown drinking water for the past seven weeks.

There’s been a ”boil order” for at least a month, and the state health department says you can’t brush your teeth with it.

The Favre that we preferred to see would have been in the streets, handing out gallon jugs. The Favre that actually exists was literally taking meals out of mouths to finance a volleyball boondoggle.

On Thursday, Roger Federer announced his retirement after he plays in the Laver Cup later in the month. Federer not only won 20 Grand Slam titles and eight Wimbledons and was ranked No. 1 for 237 consecutive weeks. His foundation spent $13.5 million in Malawi to open 81 pre schools. That’s only part of his educational initiatives in 15 different countries, mostly in Africa. The beneficiaries may never know his name, but they’ll have a chance at life.

Federer was the first truly great men’s player after Pete Sampras and seemed to win without the benefit of sweat. Everything he did on the court was celestial, and he inspired Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic to chase him down, creating a 3-man junta that ruled the sport with dignity. In doing so he became one of the most consistently admired athletes in the world, and the news made you feel like searching through your VHS drawer to make sure you had captured him somehow. Again, the most profound tribute to Federer is the glamorously advanced game of 19-year-old Carlos Alcaraz, now the world’s No. 1. He was the logical extension of Federer.

How disillusioning would it be to learn that Federer was somehow abusing his own foundation, or that he somehow used chemical chicanery to win all those trophies? There is little danger of that, but then there was little danger in projecting one’s own wishful thinking on Brett Favre.