I just sat down on my stool at a local dive bar in Tampa, rocking my Urlacher jersey despite the fact he is out for the season with injury. The joint is a hundred steps from my house and just happens to be the watering hole for Bears fans, a few locals even hailing from my hometown of Rockford, Il. The Bucs fans were dispersing after another humiliating loss and there was about ten minutes before Seattle kicked off to Chicago. The majority of the 15 televisions were focused on the Vikings-49ers game that was finishing up, but still in question. A Vikings fan, decked out from head to toe in purple people eater gear, was pacing around the outdoor bar, cleary inebriated, talking to himself and anyone else who would listen to his rants that they still had a chance. I was happy because our division rivals were about to lose their first game as the 49ers had the ball and decided to run out the clock. As that strategy always pans out, the Vikings ended up with one last chance to drive down the field, but with little time. As Brett Favre started throwing darts down the field, the thought of an improbable comeback crept into the back of my mind and the Vike's fan became even more boisterous.

Coming down to what was probably going to be the last play, you assumed they were just a little too far out to have a legitimate chance. The Hail Mary was imminent. A prayer is all that was left. Good thing for Minnesota fans, Favre does not have a lob pass in his arsenal. After eluding a defender with a decade younger Rothlisberger-type juke, the best football quarterback of all time unleashed a bullet 50 yards down the field. There was no jump ball. There was no lucky tip. The man nailed a moving target with a solid strike precisely in Greg Lewis's hands. And in true legendary fashion, the journeyman wide receiver dragged his feet along the endline in the same dome Cris Carter turned the tippytoe catch into an art form so many years ago. No script needed. This was NFL history of the highest caliber. The Vikings fan looked at me and said, "You have to give it up to me," as he raised his hand. And I did. And I knew the jubilation he felt. The kind only a sports victory of this sort of improbabilty can provide. In that moment, I did not care that the Bears would be one game down in the standings. I had just experienced the true essence of Brett Favre. The exact reason why the old man will not give up his boy's dream. In one play, all the questions, the entire 2008 season with the Jets, were obliterated. His entire comeback saga justified with one rocket throw. Love him or hate him, a fan of the game understands that he defines football and everything it stands for. I hope he plays for another ten years.