Smack Talk Friday: Burning His Jersey? Really?

Folks living in or near Eau Claire, Wisconsin will get a rare treat Monday night – the opportunity to witness the ritual destruction-by-fire of a real life Brett Favre jersey.

The sacrifice will take place in the parking lot of the Milwaukee Burger Company during the Vikings–Packers game.  Proceeds, say the proprietors, will be donated to charity.

Originally, event planners had intended to have a giant bonfire and invite folks to toss their Favre stuff on, like the nuts did with their Beatles crap after John said they were bigger than Jesus.  But the authorities in Eau Claire, fulfilling their role as party poopers, put the kibosh on the mass Favre-gear purging.

Now, only a single jersey will be sacrificed.  Will the gods of football be sufficiently appeased, or will wrath spill down upon Packer Nation in the form of a Vikings/Favre victory on Monday night at the Mall of America Dome Sponsored by Hubert Humphrey?

I have no idea what the football gods will think of the jersey burning.  I do know there will be a whole lot of drunk people hanging out in the parking lot of Milwaukee Burger Co. in Eau Claire Monday night.  There could be some fights.  There will almost certainly be some flashing.  There will be a bunch of fine, classy ladies showing off their missing teeth and Donald Driver tats.

Whatever does happen, it won’t be nearly as awesome and potentially catastrophic as the original bonfire event would’ve been.

The entire city of Eau Claire was in danger of being burned to cinders if the Favre purging had gone down as originally conceived.  People in Vikings gear – brave or foolish souls, take your pick – were in danger of being used as kindling.  The National Guard probably would’ve had to be called in.

As things stand now, there will still likely be a certain amount of mayhem, but nothing the Eau Claire cops can’t handle.  A few idiots will be waking up in the tank Tuesday morning.  The Milwaukee Burger Company may have to close down for half a day to clean up the blood and broken glass from the parking lot.  A couple small animals may lose their lives to potshots.

One or two sad females may wake up to the reality that they are wasting their dwindling supply of youthful sex appeal on men who are not worth the powder to blow them to hell.

There will be hangovers.  Hospital visits.  Insurance claims.

One thing there won’t be, though, is an ounce of shame.

Shame does not enter into the equation for your average Packer fan.  It is not a factor for people who can’t distinguish between a sink and a urinal.  For people who defend Mark “Hot-Tub” Chmura and Najeh “Hamper” Davenport.  For people who descend into psychotic rage because a football player leaves their team and signs with a rival.

“Remorse” is not in their vocabulary.  Neither is “clean underwear.”

They do know how to open a beer with their teeth though.  And they know what a sidewalk tastes like.

On Monday night, these lost souls will assemble for the Packer Nation version of Burning Man.  There won’t be many dreads or sword swallowers or phony Hollywood types trying to look counter-culture.  There will be a lot of John Deere caps with mesh panels.  There will be a ton of pick-up trucks with missing mufflers.  There will be some molestation charges.  One or two births may result from random drunken couplings in the foliage.

Somebody’s gonna lose an eye.  Or a finger.

And when the sun rises Tuesday morning, Brett Favre will still be a Minnesota Viking.  So stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Packer fan.  After removing the meth of course.