Padecky: Brett Favre’s Mississippi mess shows athletes should leave hubris on field

They need to be put in a box, the athletes who propel us to cheer and clap, who get us all misty-eyed when the touchdown pass is thrown. They need to be put in a box, where they can stay away from all the temptations their celebrity can offer. They need to be put in a box, so they can remain immortal, a perfect one-dimensional construct in a world that is anything but.

They don’t need to roam free, cushioned by their fame and fortune, recipient of a lifetime hall pass. Because if they are, if they are allowed to walk among us, they could behave like Brett Favre.

A man who should have never left the box.

A man who should have been subject to a lifetime of house arrest after his Hall of Fame football career.

A man who has done the impossible: The most charismatic professional athlete of his generation has become the guy breaking into a hardscrabble shack and taking everything from their fridge. Which, sadly, is not far from the truth.

As detailed by the Associated Press, recent text messages that have become part of a criminal investigation revealed former Mississippi governor Phil Bryant, through an aide, helped Favre receive federal money to build a state-of-the-art volleyball facility at Favre’s alma mater, the University of Southern Mississippi (USM).

That federal money? It was meant to go to welfare recipients in the nation’s poorest state.

Why build a new volleyball arena, of all things? Favre’s daughter plays volleyball for USM. The new facility would cost more than $5 million.

“If you were to pay me,” Favre wrote in a 2017 text message to those orchestrating the deal, “is there any way the media could find out where it came from and how much?”

Favre was assured such dealings would remain private.

It hasn’t. Favre is part of a larger Mississippi welfare fraud investigation that so far has implicated government officials to the tune of $77 million of diverted funds. While indictments are still to be made, the smudge of Favre’s linkage already has made an impact.

ESPN Milwaukee has temporarily suspended Favre’s weekly broadcast analysis of the Green Bay Packers, the team for which Favre gained his fame playing. Also, Sirius XM has put “on hold” Favre’s weekly satellite show.

This a Reverse Robin Hood, in which the rich steal from the poor. For his part, Favre could build a new volleyball stadium for his precious with his own money. In fact, Favre could paper The South with new volleyball stadiums. Depending on sources, his net worth is somewhere between $100-140 million.

Favre is 52. The assumption: Most people who reach that age have learned a few things in their lives, usually from their mistakes. A huge public embarrassment, for example, is a sobering tonic. Typically it snaps The Stupid right out of you. Favre has stared Stupid in the face before and apparently has forgotten the blush.

In 2010, while the New York Jets’ quarterback, Favre was smitten by a Jets sideline reporter. He asked Jenn Sterger for some companionship. She refused. Favre, never one to give up during a game, pressed the issue most uniquely. He texted her a picture of his private parts.

The text blew up the internet. If Favre had moved into a log cabin in the mountains with no electricity and plenty of firewood, no one would have thought that as odd. It would have been what most of us would have done. That again, most of us aren’t Brett Favre.

As a player Favre attracted admirers, even from the other team. He played the game with a boyish zest. It was a sandlot game to him, a party he shared in front of 80,000 people along with the guys across the line. His disingenuous flare was apparent. Favre was a big kid. He was tagged with many nicknames, “Gunslinger” being one of them. Favre would throw passes into traffic, try to thread a needle with a football, have the pass intercepted, drive his coaches nuts. People shrugged. “Oh well. That’s No. 4 all right! That good ol’ boy is one crazy dude.”

No one on the football field took chances like Brett Favre. It was adorable, if I can use the word. He was full of mischief, he was. Adorable. Never took your eyes off him. Willing, eager in fact, to test the limits. Must-see TV.

Were we so naive to think The Gunslinger would stop there? That a football game would be the only place that the good ol’ boy would be one crazy dude? That back in his condo, Favre would have his beagle bring him his slippers and he’d set down with a nice cup of hot cocoa and watch a Disney movie?

Probably not. Then again, life offers each one of us a learning curve. We can work through our mistakes if we pay attention to them or, as evidenced by VolleyGate, we can shrug and treat them as a momentary inconvenience. Easy to do that, if you feel protected.

How could Favre not feel he was protected by love and adoration? The South, for anyone who has spent time there, takes care of its own. If you are born there, grow up there, you are marked for life. You can play football in Green Bay, Wisconsin, but you’ll come back like Favre always has to Mississippi, the South, to relax and get away from it all. The cocoon will take care of you.

But THIS, Brett? THIS! You’ve driven through the Mississippi backwoods. You’ve had a beer in rickety bars whose walls are held up by a prayer. You’ve seen people on the streets in the most poverty-stricken state in America. You’ve seen the poor, the ragged, those living on the margins.

They need a meal, a blanket, a reason to live.

You need a volleyball stadium for your daughter.

Maybe this is all a big understanding, like you said. Maybe you didn’t know this was welfare money you were hijacking. Maybe you were being duped. Maybe.

But maybe you should have been one of those athletes to be put inside a box and told to stay there until game time. Yes, that’s cruel and inhumane and not the way to treat people. Then again, that last sentence is something you might have said to yourself before you sold your soul.

To comment, write to bobpadecky@gmail.com.