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As I See It

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As I See It

Beating a dead horse

Hey, what are those guys doing by the side of the road? Wow, they seem to be swinging sticks or something... at that object on the ground. Geez, it’s certainly a large object... hmmmm, what’re they doing? Oh, yeah, now I see, they’re beating that dead horse.

What am I talking about? Whaddya think? It’s the Brett Favre saga of course, you silly gooses. So, the question is, do I pick up a stick and join in, or do I just go along my merry way? It’s a poser to be sure. What to do, what to do...

Lemme just pick up a twig and toss it on the pile. Favre leads the NFL in many statistical categories, such as most TD passes, most interceptions, most consecutive games started by a QB, most consecutive 3,000 yard seasons, and now we must add, most retired/un-retired player the NFL has ever seen.

How will he fare in the purple and gold of Minnesota? Well, he’ll have one of the best running backs in the league with Adrian Peterson, and one of the most exciting defenses to get him the ball back, so he’ll have plenty of opportunities to throw TD passes (and picks). He’ll also be playing in a dome, which may help as the season wears on. But he also has a losing record in domes… In the last two years, both in Green Bay and then last year with the Jets, he started off the year great only to fizzle at season’s end when it mattered most.

Frankly, I think his stay with the Vikings will play out similar to his last two years, without a trip to the Super Bowl, and he’ll head into yet another retirement. Hey, wait a minute; he signed a two-year deal with the Vikings—for 25 million, 12 million this year and 13 million the next. Whew, what a relief, looks like we can relax and go through next summer without the annual retirement/unretirement deal. Thanks Brett, for giving us the next off-season off, for not obligating the media to cover in detail your employment status. 

See, just a twig, nothing more.

It’s been over a year since I last editorialized about the sporting world in the River Journal; with my new career path into the financial services industry taking up about 12 hours per day 6 or 7 days per week and leaving me little mental energy left for creative writing projects. However, that situation changed last month, and I am now free to again wax poetic in the world of sport on the lives and tales of athletes and their successes, miscues and retirements. (Simply stated, it means, I am now in the market for full time employment. I’m thinking a position involving salary, commissions, and bonuses with health benefits. My experience includes advertising, marketing, publishing and sales management, and I am a fully licensed financial advisor for all your investment consulting needs. I am a published sports writer and trained actor and director for the stage. I am a Taurus, and my pet peeves are people who tailgate and cat hair on a freshly vacuumed carpet).

One more thing before I sign off, it’s Fantasy Football time everyone, so get your league going and a team name chosen before all the good ones are taken. I’m still wrestling with what name I want to call my team this year. When I first started Fantasy, back in ’94, I used the name “Go For Two.” I chose it because the league had just reinstituted the rule to allow teams to go for the two-point conversion instead of just the extra point after a touchdown. Well, I decided to keep the name, but just change how it was written each year. My derivatives have been, “Go 4 2,” “Go Fort Who,” “Gopher II,” “Gifford Who?,” “Goin For Two Again,” but I’m running out of ideas. Since we visited Italy last year I thought maybe, “Via Per Due” or I could go French with “Allez Pour Deux”, or Spanish with “Vaya Por Dos.” But none of these is hitting me on a gut level.

I am considering going a whole new direction, with team names like:

Commish & Chips—Cuz I’m the commissioner of the league, or

A Rivers Runs through it—Cuz I like Phillip Rivers of the Chargers, or

Blood, Sweat & Beers—Cuz I like beers, or

Live & Let Addai—Cuz I like Bond movies and Joseph Addai, or

Thesaurus Tex and his Cosmic Cowboy Barbs—just cuz I’ve always liked that name, or

maybe, I’ll just go with my recently re-un-retired hero and call my team: Favre From Over.

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Author info

Scott Johnson Scott Johnson I was born a poor German child in the suburbs of Milwaukee, Wisconsin on a cold April eve in 1958, on the heels of the greatest event in the history of the state: the hiring of Vincent T. Lombardi to the Green Bay Packers. Hence began my love affair with the game of football and my team in green and gold. Due to my father’s (100%) disability with MS, we moved to sunny San Diego, CA in the summer of 1968 to escape the bitter cold of those Wisconsin winters and its negative effect on my Dad's disease. While in San Diego I found not only my love for beautiful beaches and beautiful girls, but also for the stage. From junior high through college at San Diego State University, I was performing and directing in three to five theatrical productions per year. Between theatre and football I managed to squeeze in distance running as an avocation, competing in numerous 10k races, half marathons and finally the San Diego Marathon. Realizing that the chances of becoming a fabulously rich and famous actor were few and far between, I decided on an advertising career in the newspaper business as my vocation. I began at a weekly publication, then a daily, then the #1 monthly senior publication in the country, Senior World Newsmagazine, where I became their Regional Sales Manager. Looking for a “quality of life” change for our family, my wife I found Sandpoint, Idaho in 1993 and moved here with our son in 1994. I worked for the Daily Bee and then in the car business before finding my niche as Director of Sales and Advertising for Keokee Creative Group in 2001, where I remain today. In the Fall of 2006, Trish found my knowledge of sport, my gift of gab and my theatrical spin on life in the sporting world a match for the River Journal, and I’ve been writing my sports column ever since. Still waiting for that call from Sports Illustrated, though. Of course now that Ric Reilly has retired, maybe there’s a chance…

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