Well, that was close. Thought for a moment there Aaron Rodgers was about to actually find out what kind of quarterback he's going to be. And now, as it turns out, he is.
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| Rodgers seems destined for heartbreak. (US Presswire) |
When the Brett Favre/Ted Thompson donkey parade ends, and Rodgers ends up back playing lead clipboard and first ball cap for the Green Bay Packers, it will dawn upon him that the price for keeping his dignity when all around him people were dropping their pants is that he doesn't get the big piece of chicken ... again. And at this point, one wonders if this is his fate.
He was going to take California to a BCS game, but that didn't happen because the Golden Bears struggled at Southern Mississippi and then got the full BCS howdy -- ballot box stuffing. His big bowl game, the '04 Holiday Bowl, ended up a major drag -- the disinterested Bears got schooled by a superior Texas Tech team. Then he was going to be the top draft choice and ended up 21st. Then he was going to be Favre's eventual replacement, and so far all he's got is the eventual part.
This is not to feel sorry for Rodgers, who is (a) an adult, (b) paid well, (c) could have a real job, and (d) could be fighting J.T. O'Sullivan and Shaun Hill for the right to get his brains kicked in in San Francisco. He is no victim here. That he doesn't deserve it has nothing to do with it. Someone has to play the poor sap in this melodrama, and he's it.
But it has been four years now, five, if you count the weird end to his college career, which is plenty of time for Rodgers to have his grumpy moments, and therefore plenty of time to see the way the wind is blowing. His job in life is to stand firmly on the red carpet and wait for it to get jerked out from beneath him. It's typical Charlie Brown, only there's not one Lucy Van Pelt, but dozens of them.
So Aaron Rodgers has a choice to make while the world is busy not watching him. He can curse the fates that have brought him to this state, as the prop Favre and Thompson used to try and maim each other, or he can come to grips with his real claim to fame: "Hi, I'm Aaron Rodgers, and that's my face you see when you look in the dictionary under 'almost.' Or 'foil.'"
After all, the Favre saga couldn't have happened without Rodgers. True, it also needed pigheadedness, stupidity, cupidity, venality, hatred, revenge, recrimination and the tin ears of men who have no idea why people get nauseous when they speak. But Rodgers was the prop that brought us all in, whether you were a company man howling, "It's Rodgers' time, and we can't keep letting Favre jerk him and us around," or a devoted Favrista screaming, "Why does a Hall of Famer have to stand in line behind this guy? What's he ever done?"
Indeed, Rodgers' story can't be told by NFL Films, because it isn't the stuff of myth, or forced humor, or a faux-sensitive interview with Steve Sabol. It would be like telling the Scott Norwood story from the point of view of the upright.
Oh, sure, maybe someday Rodgers will get his shot, and maybe he'll even do something great with it. But for now, he's a plot point in the growing mythologies of the Packers and Favre -- a vital yet meant-to-be-overlooked detail that makes the story hold together as the monumental absurdity it is.
And next year, if Favre actually does retire for sure this time, maybe we'll all get to enjoy the next special moment in Aaron Rodgers' life, when Roger Goodell stands before the world and says, "With the 19th pick in the 2009 NFL Draft, the Green Bay Packers select Tim Tebow, quarterback, the University of Florida."
What, you've got a better idea for Chapter 5?
Ray Ratto is a columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle.
