I am unable to hate Aaron Rodgers (and I hate that)

I had a hangover on Monday, physically and mentally. Strangely, neither stemmed from frustration about the Green Bay Packers Super Bowl victory.

The physical hangover resulted from an ill-conceived science experiment. A couple friends brought over a soda making kit - a gas injection device that carbonates anything - and we collectively decided that 9 p.m. was the best time to test a recipe for sparkling long island iced-teas, in the interest science, of course. Because you know what a 12 ounce cup of gin, vodka, tequila, and rum needs? Increased drinkability. The plan was either a rousing success or an epic failure depending on whether you asked us last Sunday night or Monday morning.

The mental hangover was harder to wrap my hands around.

A Packers Super Bowl victory is as close as you can come to a sports apocalypse for me. I hate Green Bay. I hate everything about them. I hate the Lambeau Leap. I hate the green and yellow uniforms. I'd hate the stupid cheese hats even more if they didn't help me so easily identify people with whom I will never be friends. Green Bay practically ruined my entire football watching childhood and, consequently, I enjoy watching the Packers lose almost as much as I enjoy watching the Bears win. (Hey, when you're a Chicago sports fan, sometimes schadenfreude is all you got.)

Yet, in the aftermath of the Packers victory and Aaron Roders coronation as Super Bowl MVP and the-next-great-quarterback I felt strangely ambivalent. I even tried to cry, but it turns out poking yourself in the palm with a dinner fork doesn't bring up tears, just searing pain in your hand. Try as I might, I could not get the faintest bit upset over what should have been one of the more vomit inducing championship celebrations of my life.

Because, frankly, I respect this team.

I feel like Vince Vaughn at the end of Anchorman, "I hate you Green Bay Packers. I hate you. But [gosh darn it], do I respect you."

I respect Aaron Rodgers. I respect Charles Woodsen. I respect the way BJ Raji is a dead ringer for the lady who played Precious. I respect Green Bay's cadre of wide receivers. I respect the way they can dominate on offense without any semblance of a running game. I respect the 2010 Green Bay Packers.

I never respected Brett Favre during his heyday. Not ever. Not even a little. I grew a grudging respect for him - a quasi-Stockholm syndrome - at the tail end of his career, but only after he started handing out interceptions to Bears defensive backs like glazed doughnuts at a Krispy Kreme. But during his prime? Pure, unadulterated hatred.

Brett Favre was the embodiment of pure evil. I hated the way announcers euphemized his interceptions as "gunslinging". I even hated the way he pronounces his name. THE R COMES AFTER THE V, BRETT. YOUR NAME IS FAHV-REH. WHY DOESN'T ANYONE ELSE REALIZE THIS? I FEEL LIKE I'M TAKING CRAZY PILLS.

Aaron Rodgers is different. He has played so well and displayed such dignity, grace, and leadership in the process, that I'm forced to admit not only a completely un-begrudged respect, but also a bit of admiration. Aaron Rodgers is everything you want in an NFL quarterback and, even though I tried as I hard as I could to get upset, I was happy to see him revel in the much deserved post-Super Bowl celebration.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to whip up an extra large batch of sparkling long island iced teas and throw my laptop through a window.

The Annual Super Bowl Prognostication Extravaganza 2011

I am the World's foremost authority on Yo Gabba Gabba. Over the past two and a half years, I've spent more time with Muno, Foofa, Brobee, Toodee, Plex, and DJ Lance than anyone outside of my daughter and the Editor-in-Chief. If the fate of the free world hinges on an extensive knowledge of brightly colored furries teaching kids life lessons through indie music, President Obama is calling me.

In the grand scheme of children's television programming, Yo Gabba Gabba is quite tolerable (which I suppose is like saying in the grand scheme of Taco Bell food, Mexican Pizza is the least likely to cause diarrhea). Still, there's only so many times you can hear the catchy and informative song "Don't Bite Your Friends" before it starts to have the reverse effect. At a certain point - somewhere around the 4,700 hours mark - you start dreaming up inventive ways to postpone the slow creep of insanity resulting from the almost unbearable repetition of chirpy educational fluff.

My favorite tactic is to create alternate story lines and ponder the background and relationships of the characters. Yo Gabba Gabba supposedly chronicles the educational interactions between DJ Lance Rock and his collection of magical toys. But, when I watch, I see a much more intricate and mature and storyline.

Muno, the giant one-eyed bumpy orange phallus, is coming to grips with his homosexuality; Foofa, the pink "flower" creature, never received proper attention from her parents and desperately seeks affirmation, which drives her blatant promiscuity. Toodee, the blue female arctic cat-dragon, is tormented by her unrequited love of Foofa. Brobee, the green striped square with arms, suffers from learning disabilities and anger management issues, a sad result of his parents drug abuse. And Plex, the magic androgynous robot, struggles with the paradox of assisting the development of his friends while lacking the capability to feel. These complex emotional and psychological undercurrents provide sufficient depth to help me stave off the desire to set myself on fire during the 379th rendition of the song "I Like Bugs".

This Sunday, I'm going to have to use similar tactics to help keep me from banging my head against the wall during five hours of Packers and Steelers bacchanalia.

There are few teams or players in sports that I actually hate, but the Packers are one of them. While Chicago trotted out a different hide-the-women-and-children embarrassment to the very idea of quarterback play every year, the Packers had Brett Favre. From 1992 to the present, Rex Grossman led Bears Quarterbacks with 20 wins. During that same period, Brett Favre had 22 wins against the Bears. Now that Favre is no long around to torture Bears fans, the Packers new quarterback, Aaron Rodgers, might be even better. Shoot. Me. Now.

While I lack a similar personal connection to fuel my distaste for the Steelers, it's hard to root for a team that has won six Super Bowls and is poised to win their third in that past six years. Compound that with a quarterback who should probably be in prison for sexual assault charges - and yet, strangely, is more beloved and accepted than a guy who got pulled out of an NFC title game with a knee injury. Stallworth drove drunk and killed a pedestrian, Roethelesburger sexually assaulted a girl, Michael Vick viciously slaughtered dogs, but we hate Jay Cutler. Go figure. - and you see why I have trouble getting excited for Steeler Nation.

Worse of all, the game will end with either the coronation of Aaron Rodgers as the best quarterback alive (which would likely result with me vomiting in my hands), or fuel the patently absurd notion that Ben Roethlesburger is the greatest quarterback of all time (In his seven year career he's had a Top 3 defense five times, the #1 defense three times and led a Top 10 offense only twice - #9 both times. People who suggest Big Ben is better than Peyton Manning deserve an elbow to the crotch).

I can't remember a year when I've been less invested in a Super Bowl, which is strange considering it should be a great game. The Packers and Steelers are two of the NFL's oldest and most storied franchises. They both have incredible defenses and explosive offenses. By all accounts they are evenly matched and Sunday's game should be one of the most competitive ever. But, no matter what I try, I can't get excited for this Super Bowl.

I've spent the entire week trying to think of alternate story lines, unrelated to the game, to help stomach a 300 minute tug job of the franchise that ruined my formative football years and the team that wins championships like I make Rex Grossman jokes. Maybe I'll just go watch Yo Gabba Gabba with Haley. At least the music won't be as bad as the Black Eyed Peas at halftime.

---

In 2006, it was The Ex-Girlfriends Bowl.
In 2007, it was The "It's about more then just the Quarterback" Bowl.
In 2008, it was The Destiny Bowl.
In 2009, it was The "And Pornography Will Save Us All" Bowl.
In 2010, it was The "It's actually just about the Quarterback" Bowl.

This year, I'm proud to present the One Too Many Injuries Bowl.

I can't seem to wrap my head around the idea of the Pittsburgh Steelers as underdogs in the Super Bowl. They've won more Lombardi Trophies than any team in history, two titles in the past six years, and always seem to come up big when it matters most (Roethlesburger to Santonio Holmes anyone?). But there's only so many injuries a team can sustain at key positions before you have to start wondering how they can patch the holes.

With Maurkice Pouncey officially out of Sunday's contest, the Steelers offensive line is playing without their starting center and both starting tackles. Ben Roethlesburger thrives at evading pressure in the pocket, extending the play, and making plays down field, but can a patch work offensive line reasonably contain a defense with BJ Raji, Clay Matthews, and Darren Woodsen that likes to disguise blitzes and bring pressure from all angles? How much smoke and how many mirrors do the Steelers have left? The battle at the line of scrimmage - on both sides of the ball - will define this contest, and I don't know if Pittsburgh has the man power to hold Green Bay at, well, bay.

When Pittsburgh has the ball, watch the middle of the line to see whether back up lineman Doug Legursky, making his first career start at center, can hold the point of attack against Green Bay's rotund nose tackle, Gabourey Sidibe look-alike BJ Raji. Between Roethlesburger's ability to escape pressure and Rashard Mendenhall's tough running, the Steelers are almost uniquely capable of overcoming offensive line deficiencies, but the line needs to, at least, give the playmakers a chance to get down field. Also, the Packers main weakness on defense is slowing down the tight end. Look for Pittsburgh TE Heath Miller to have a big day gashing Pittsburgh up the seam (For the gambling addicts out there, Miller has 25 to 1 odds to win Super Bowl MVP. I'm just saying.).

When Green Bay is on offense, keep a close eye on how close Pittsburgh lines up their defensive backs. Typically, they play one in tight press coverage and the other about 10 yards off the line of scrimmage. If Pittsburgh sticks with this alignment, Green Bay will rely heavily on quick slant patters - their bread and butter - and, as we saw on the Packers opening drive against the Bears in the NFC Title Game, are capable of getting down the field in a hurry. (For the gambling addicts out there, slant route runner extraordinaire also has 25 to 1 odds to win Super Bowl MVP. I'm just saying.) The battle between the Packers offense and Pittsburgh defense to make the other get out of their standard alignment could swing the outcome of the game.

At the end of the day, the Packers ability to spread out the Steelers defense on fast Dallas turf and apply pressure to an embattled Pittsburgh offensive line should result in a convincing, if not overwhelming Packers victory, except... Green Bay has this nagging tendency to let teams hang around and the Steelers thrive in ripping the heart out of opposing teams in close games and no one is better than Ben Roethlesburger at converting big third downs and leading game winning drives. If the Packers don't step on the Steelers' throat and keep them in the ball game, look for the Men of Steel to win their unprecedented seventh Lombardi Trophy.

But.... I don't think it will be close at end. I think the Packers jump out to a fast start and never look back. 31-21 Packers. Let the Aaron Rodgers coronation begin. I will now curl up in the fetal position, donning my Jay Cutler jersey.

Paying your Dues

Everywhere I go, I hear people say that Aaron Rodges has "paid his dues".

"He's paid his dues, put in the time, and been a good sport through it all" - www.sportsdatahub.com

"He has paid his dues, he has done what has been asked of him, and he has earned his keep." - bleacherreport.com

"He's certainly paid his dues...He hasn't had a chance." - Packer's Offensive Coordinator Joe Philbin www.jsonline.com

(In fact, searching Google for "Aaron Rodgers" "paid his dues", returns over 200 hits.)

Notice, no one is saying "Rodgers is awesome", "He's an amazing Quarterback", "He's the right man for the job" or, most importantly, "He's better then Brett Favre." The only argument in favor of making Aaron Rodgers the starting Quarterback of the Green Bay Packers is that he's "paid his dues." Simply put, Aaron Rodgers is the Daniel Akaka of Quarterbacks.

(Author's Note: The following is not meant as an attack, nor a slight against Daniel Akaka. I do not know him, nor have I ever met him. I do not harbor any resentment towards him. I have no political disagreements or philosophical differences that motivate me. I am simply speaking to the similarities between the situations of Aaron Rodgers and Mr. Akaka, when he was running for reelection in 2006.)

By all accounts, Daniel Akaka is a hard working, good, honest man. You would be hard pressed to find anyone either locally or in Washington who has anything bad to say about him personally. However, you would also be hard pressed to find someone who has anything good to say about his body of work. In 2006, Time Magazine coined him the "Master of the Minor" and ranked him as one of the five worst Senators in the country. His major accomplishment in the Senate is passing a resolution "by which the U.S. apologized for invading Hawaii in 1893." During his heated reelection bid against former Congressman Ed Case in 2006, whenever anyone was asked why they were voting for Akaka, they always replied...

"Because, he paid his dues."

No one pointed to a distinguished record of service. No one pointed out his ability to pass legislation. They simply said, "he paid his dues".

But what does that mean exactly?

"He paid his dues," is what girls tell their friends when they ask why they're going out on a date with their dorky longtime friend with a mullet and a lisp who brought his Care Bears lunch box with him to college.

"He paid his dues," is what they say when the 55 year old McDonald's worker with a 25 word vocabulary and a GED gets promoted from mop duty to the fries.

"He paid his dues," is what you say when you don't do laundry for 3 months, run out of clean shirts and justify wearing the ugly mustard yellow sweater your mother-in-law knitted you.

"Paid his dues" is just a nice way of saying that there's no other compelling reason to justify a decision.

In this case, it's a nice way of saying that Aaron Rodgers is not as good as Brett Favre. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Favre is one of the Top 25 Quarterbacks to ever play the game. He's loved by fans, feared by opponents and respected throughout football. Being a worse quarterback then Brett Favre is a like being a worse porn star then Kobe Tai. You don't beat yourself up too much, because not many people can take a pounding, get you excited and bring opponents to their knees quite like Favre or Kobe. (I've written a lot of metaphors in JBorhood, but I assure you, that was, far and away, the most fun metaphor I've ever researched. I was tempted to provide a link to inform the readers who are not familiar with Kobe's "body" of work, but decided to take the high road. Trust me when I say that searching for "Kobe Tai" in Google will more then suffice. You just might not want to do it at work...) So, calling Aaron Rodgers a worse Quarterback then Brett Favre is more of a testament to the ability of Favre then the shortcomings of Rodgers, but it still begs the question: Is Aaron Rodgers a little worse then Brett Favre or is he a lot worse then Brett Favre. Unfortunately for the Green Bay Packers, the answer is no one knows.

Yet, for some strange reason, the Packers don't want Brett Favre. They want "paid his dues."

In an vaguely similar situation (minus the over-dramatized comeback of a prima donna superstar), the University of Hawaii currently has a Quarterback who many feel should start because "he paid his dues." While Colt Brennan put up record setting numbers, Tyler Graunke patiently held his clip board, cheered from the sidelines and watched Colt lead the Warriors to the Sugar Bowl. Sure, Tyler had his moments of glory. He led the Warriors to victory on the road in Nevada when Colt Brennan was out with a concussion. He played decently against Georgia's third string in the third quarter of UH's blowout loss in the Sugar Bowl. But, the fact of the matter is, Tyler sat on the bench while Colt played because Tyler Graunke is no Colt Brennan.

Maybe Tyler Graunke is a stud. Maybe he completely outplays Inoke Funake and Greg Alexander in practice and earns the starting role. Maybe he has a better season then Colt Brennan ever did. (Maybe monkeys fly out of my butt.) Tyler Graunke might be an outstanding quarterback, my only point is that making him the starter simply because "he paid his dues," is absurd.

Because "Paid his dues," doesn't win football games. Laser rocket arms win football games. Sound decision making wins football games. Colt Brennan wins football games. Brett Favre wins football games.

You can have "paid his dues" if you want, but I don't want "paid his dues".

I don't want that stupid mustard yellow sweater.

I don't want Daniel Akaka.

I don't want Tyler Graunke.

I don't want Aaron Rodgers.

I want earned his dues.

I want to win.

I want Colt Brennan.

And I want Brett Favre.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pay my dues.

A Bittersweet Farewell

It's a bittersweet day in the JBorhood.

The Brett Favre era has finally come to an end.

"Bittersweet?", you ask.

I know, I know. The greatest source of sports anguish in my life is finally hanging up his cleats and walking into the sunset. It feels like I am waking up from a twenty year long nightmare. My first inclination is to strip naked, paint myself blue and orange and run through the streets singing "Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead". I should be popping open a bottle of Dom with my Dad and launching into a two-week bender to celebrate the best thing to happen to the Chicago Bears franchise since the Super Bowl Shuffle (with apologies to Devin Hester, of course). But I can't shake this empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something does not feel right.

In what I can only explain as a bizarre case of Stockholm Syndrome, I am somewhat disappointed to see Brett Favre retire. I haven't exactly sunk to the level of Champ from Anchorman -- I do not miss his scent, nor do I miss his musk -- I just do not know how to prepare for a football season without my arch nemesis. I feel like a Yankee fan who just found out that the Red Sox were contracted. A football season without Brett Favre is like Cinemax without soft core porn (What? You expected peanut butter without jelly?). You'll still watch, you just might not pay for the premium package. Let me put it this way: prior to this year, if my friend asked me to be the best man at his wedding, which happened to fall on the same day as a Bears-Packers game, he'd be looking for a new best man. This year, I'd at least think about it (before saying no).

For Bears fans, the regular season schedule revolved around the two games against Green Bay. An early season win against the Packers provided positive momentum and the late season clash decided playoff rankings or (more often) provided one last chance chance to salvage an otherwise forgettable season. Occasionally, if the Lions or Vikings were good, those games took on an added excitement, but no matter the circumstance, they could not come close to the intensity of the Bears-Packers rivalry. Favre's departure does not destroy the rivalry, it just takes away some of its luster. Brett Favre wasn't a part of the Bears-Packers rivalry, Brett Favre was the Bears-Packers rivalry.

For example, historically, when the Dodgers traveled to San Francisco to play the Giants, the Giants fans would chant, "Dodgers Suck!" Whenever, the Giants went to LA, the Dodger fans would chant, "Giants Sucks!" But, somewhere during Barry Bonds tainted run, as he grabbed all the headlines and became the face, heart and soul of the Giants (or perhaps, more appropriately, sucked the heart and soul out of the Giants), the Dodgers fans collective hatred for the Giants morphed into a collective hatred for Barry Bonds. They no longer cheered "Giants Suck!", they chanted "Barry Sucks!"

The same thing happened in Chicago. Somewhere along the way, we Bears fans stopped hating the Packers and we started hating Brett Favre. Actually, let me rephrase that, we still hate the Packers, but we despise Brett Favre. I'm not sure if it was the continual beatings at the hands Favre and the Packers or the long procession of god awful Bears quarterbacks (Take a deep breath...Henry Burris, Chris Chandler, Will Furrer, Brian Griese, Rex Grossman, Jim Harbaugh, Chad Hutchinson, Erik Kramer, Craig Krenzel, Dave Krieg, Shane Matthews, Cade McNown, Jim Miller, Rick Mirer, Moses Moreno, Kyle Orton, Jonathan Quinn, Steve Stenstrom, Kordell Stewart, Steve Walsh, Peter Tom Willis), but at some point, we snapped. During the Packers hey day I would not have shed a tear if I found out that Brett Favre had been hit by a bus. While being eaten by a polar bear. With rabies.

But, during the last few years, something changed. I don't know if it was the back to back NFC North Championships in 2005 and 2006, the Super Bowl appearance, the 6-2 record vs. the Packers during the Lovie Smith era, or the gradual onset of maturity (wait, that can't be right), but somehow, someway, I stopped hating Brett Favre. What's worse, I even started to like him. It's hard not to like a guy who enjoys playing football as much as Brett Favre.

He doesn't cry about his contract.

He doesn't whine about playing time.

He doesn't complain about his teammates.

He doesn't fight with his coaching staff.

He just laughs, smiles and wins. More then any quarterback in the history of the NFL.

All you need to know about Brett Favre happened within 30 seconds during the Packers first round playoff game versus the Seahawks this year. The Packers had the ball in the red zone and called a short slant pattern, designed to hit Greg Jennings for a quick touchdown strike over the middle. Due to the snow and wind, the play completely broke down and it looked like the Seahawks had Favre wrapped up for a sack. But Favre juked one man, spun around to his right, sprinted toward the sideline, jumped forward and flipped the ball to Greg Jennings for a miraculous touchdown. Without skipping a beat, Favre took off his helmet, laughed and started throwing snowballs at his teammates. For just a moment, they weren't professional football players. They were a group of guys, doing what they love the most. The moment was truly Favrian. In fact, no other word could truly describe the moment. It was vintage Favre.

It is with that in mind that I bid a fond JBorhood farewell to Brett Favre.

I hate you Brett Favre, I hate you. But gosh darn it, do I respect you.