Why Farve's Retirement Makes Me Sad

It really has nothing to do with Brett, but more to do with my dearly departed brother. He passed away last April, and he was HUGE football fan. One of the last conversations we had before the cancer made him loopy had to do with #4. This would have been last year around this time.

Me: Hey Paul, Brett Farve announced his retirement today!
Paul: Really? You're kidding? I didn't hear a thing about it!
Me: Yeah, he's decided to stop playing fooball and instead run his families bakery business in Mississippi.
Paul: I can't find this anywhere on line... I looked on ESPN.com, Packers.com, CNN.com, NFL.com..no one is reporting it. Are you sure?
Me: Yes. He's going to specialize in turnovers.
Paul: ( silence )
Paul: ( more silence )
Paul: That's not funny.

Well, it was funny to me. God bless you, Paul. I miss you.

Nice Rack

Bucks Playoffs, May, 2001. Front Page of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, braces and all.

God Bless You, Paul. You Rocked.

My dear brother Paul passed away on April 20th, 2007. His battle was short and furious, but ultimately He won and now Paul is standing at the foot of God.

Yeah...but I don't have to like it.

I don't have to like it, but I have to accept it, and care for the ones who are left behind. So in Paul's honor I will continue to do the things that he got a kick out of me doing. Like screaming "Go Richie" at the top of my lungs at the All Star Game Home Run Derby. Like announcing the South Shore Frolics Parade. Like letting Jill come out to play. Like Storming the Bastille in pink t-shirts. Like stealing schnapps from fellow Packer Fans. Yes, Paul, I will think of you, always.

Go Big Red

Twenty years ago, my Fig Newton Mama was being treated for Breast Cancer, and her chemo drug of choice is something we called "Big Red." It was this ugly tube of goo that dripped in and was supposed to control the crazy cell growth. Here we are, twenty years later, and my brother is going on the same drug to control his crazy cell growth of this cancer. It's not breast cancer (Paul doesn't really have man boobs, but I have heard him squeal like a girl...does that count?), but 2 rare tumors that are filling up all avialable space in his guts.

I have this vision of a little Star Wars kind of thing happening underneath his skin...Cancer cells wearing white storm trooper outfits, wandering around and hiding in every corner, while "Big Red," maybe with a Wookie or Princess Leia (I prefer the Leia with the ear muff/pumpernickle bagels on her head hairdo) at it's side, swashbuckeling their way through his system.


Who will win the battle? Big Red? God, I hope so.

My Mother once reached into her very large purse and pulled out a unwrapped fig newton...and ate it...infront of the cutest guy I had ever met. To this day, I still call her my Fig Newton Mama.