Creaky Brett Favre Deserves Our Love

It's time for true confessions: With only a few exceptions (and I can't think of any at the moment), I always pull for the old guy.

Everybody should.

In fact, everybody normally does.

So why isn't everybody reverting to their natural instincts and applauding Brett Favre's latest return to the NFL? They should. I mean, the easy thing was for the greatest quarterback of our time to stay retired, but he did the difficult thing. It also was the impressive thing. He ignored his slew of haters to follow his heart and his gut to the Minnesota Vikings. At nearly 40, he is the latest to prove that age is just a number, and given all of that, he deserves a group hug.

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Instead, we have those wishing to give Favre a group choke, because they are into pettiness. They say he can't make up his mind. They say he is more proficient at throwing interceptions than touchdowns. They say he is vindictive, which is why they say he left the comfort of his Mississippi home to join the Vikings, a primary threat in the NFC North to the Green Bay Packers, his former team of lore for 16 seasons.

Mostly, they say he is old.

Old? As long as Favre is healthy and motivated, he should play forever -- or at least until somebody doesn't want him anymore. But I'll concede most of those other points to the Brett Bashers. Yes, he was a little wobbly regarding his future during each of the past two offseasons. Yes, he became so much of a gunslinger in recent years that he often shot himself in the cleats. Yes, he really, really, really wants to stuff a cheesehead down the throats of Green Bay officials for not taking him back when he retired and then un-retired after his stint with the Packers.

As for that age thing, these are the good old days (with an emphasis on "old") for the sports version of senior citizens.

You know you've joined me in pulling for them. You likely were among those showering Evander Holyfield with hearty cheers when he became the living Rocky along the way to tying Muhammad Ali as a four-time heavyweight world champion. He is 46 now, and those hearty cheers remain, but only at lower decibels. He has his detractors, because he won't quit despite his fading skills. He also has his admirers (such as me) because -- well, because he won't quit despite his fading skills.

Such determination makes Holyfield attractive to those into underdogs, and the majority of folks are into underdogs, especially old underdogs.

Take John Smoltz, for instance. He was cut by the Atlanta Braves this spring after two Hall of Fame decades for the franchise, and the choppers and the chanters who follow the team threatened to storm the Braves' front offices at Turner Field. They still wanted Smoltz and his 42-year-old arm. He nevertheless was awful during a brief stay this season with the Boston Red Sox. Now he's attempting a resurrection with the St. Louis Cardinals, and fans everywhere wish him well.

The same goes for Jamie Moyer, who took the pitcher's mound the other day for the Philadelphia Phillies at 46 in relief of Pedro Martinez at 37. How cool was that? How cool was Kurt Warner nearly winning the Super Bowl last season for the Arizona Cardinals by using his 37-year-old arm to throw for 377 yards while completing 72 percent of his passes? How cool was Dara Torres swimming her way to a medal in a fifth different Olympics last year at 41?

If those occasions were cool, this one was frigid: Despite pushing 60, Tom Watson almost drove, putted and willed his way to a British Open victory this summer. Only collapses on the 72nd hole and in a playoff kept his miracle away. In fact, when young whippersnapper Stewart Cink won the thing at 36, he joined the list of most despised persons on earth at that moment.

Oh, and guess who leads NASCAR's Sprint Cup series in victories this season? It isn't Jimmy Johnson, Kyle Busch or Tony Stewart. It's Mark Martin, 50, who began racing on NASCAR'S premier circuit when Dale Earnhardt Jr. was 6 years old. Martin has four victories and counting.

I'm cheering for Martin. I've been cheering for the old guy since the early 1970s, when George Blanda kept dragging his ancient body off the sidelines for the Oakland Raiders to win games in the last seconds with his arm or his legs. He looked early 70ish at the time, but he only was early 40ish.

Favre looks like Favre. Whether he will play like his vintage self for the Vikings is debatable, but this isn't: He deserves our love.

All ancient players do.

Terence Moore is a national columnist and commentator for FanHouse. He is a frequent panelist on "Rome Is Burning", an ESPN show hosted by Jim Rome, that is seen Monday through Friday at 4:30 PM ET. Moore spent more than three decades working for major newspapers, including 26 years as an award-winning sports columnist for the San Francisco Examiner and the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. He resides in Atlanta .