Let Us Now Praise No. 4

B

RETT FAVRE paused for just a moment before getting up. He was on his back looking skyward near the Minnesota Vikings’40-yard line, with his feet on the ground in front of him and his legs bent slightly. The elbows of the white long- sleeved T-shirt he wore under his green No. 4 jersey were covered in mud from a cold rain earlier in the day. Now it was just below freezing, and Favre’s short, forceful breaths were visible as he sum- moned up the strength to get back on his feet. “Who hit me?” he shouted.

SF

About the Author

Stephen F. Hayes

B

RETT FAVRE paused for just a moment before getting up. He was on his back looking skyward near the Minnesota Vikings’40-yard line, with his feet on the ground in front of him and his legs bent slightly. The elbows of the white long- sleeved T-shirt he wore under his green No. 4 jersey were covered in mud from a cold rain earlier in the day. Now it was just below freezing, and Favre’s short, forceful breaths were visible as he sum- moned up the strength to get back on his feet. “Who hit me?” he shouted.