Dear Brett,

I was sitting in Starbucks today working on a script for “Rocky 7: The Senior Slug-Out” and for some reason you came to mind. I thought about your storybook career, the childhood hero dreams you made come true, and the nearly fabled way you made the “critics and experts” bite their tongue on talk of you retiring after 2006. I thought about the emotional news conference you held earlier this year announcing your retirement and how it inspired me to reflect on your career and the contributions you made to the game. Then, I had another startling thought… “This mutha *bleep* could be getting back into the game!” And I gotta tell you Brett, it didn’t sit well with me.
You see it’s not that I think you suck or that I think you’re too old or that I’m afraid of you signing with a team in the NFC South (please don’t sign with a team in the NFC South…please don’t sign with a team in the NFC South.) What really makes me ansy is that there’s a good chance that pretty soon, no one will care what you do. You’ll go to some team, maybe have an okay year with them, maybe even make it to the playoffs, but unless you win another ring, you’re just another schmuck who didn’t know when to get out while the gettin’ was good. And I don’t want to think of you that way Brett. After all, you’re the man who first got a starting gig back in 1992 and has been starting for EVERY game ever since. You’re the guy who holds the record for the most career NFL touchdown passes (442), most career NFL passing yards (61,655), most career pass completions (5,377), most career pass attempts (8,758), and most career victories as a starting quarterback (160). I mean day-um!!!
If your comeback somehow amounts to mediocrity, your legacy suddenly runs the risk of becoming a punch line. Your next retirement announcement will amount to little more than a bad SNL skit (or maybe a really funny one, depending on who they get to play you. Maybe the guy who plays ‘Macgruber’ might be best at capturing your southern twang. Or perhaps Will Ferrell when he’s hosting. But I digress.) I don’t want that for you Brett. Call me selfish or sentimental but I enjoy the idea of you going out pseudo-on top.
So while I know you’re a grown man who can make up his own mind, allow me to make up your mind for you. Let it go!!!! Don’t piss off your faithful Green Bay flock by signing with a division rival. (Oh who am I kidding? I’d actually love to melt those Cheese-heads down to size.) How about this: don’t piss off me by continuing this saga.
Didn’t that Tommy Turner Tallywhacker scene in Porky’s teach all of us an important lesson about the dangers of not knowing when to let go? Don’t follow the example of other high profile stars who didn’t know when to let go of their first loves. Imagine what could have been if Whitney dumped Bobby before the crack …or if that Senator from Idaho let go of his gay bathroom stall fantasies before the undercover cop came in for a pee. Wouldn’t it behoove you to divorce yourself from the game of football before this ends in a bitter, Christie Brinkley-style throw down in court?
Maybe I’m wrong to want this Brett. Maybe I’m wrong to ask you to give up what you love. But I love you too much to sit idly by as you let your emotions get the best of your better judgment. Don’t do it Brett. (Or do it, whatever. I’m already starting to find you insignificant.)

Love Always,
Nola Chick