Football is beautiful. Let me fill you in on my rationale before you go disagreeing with me.

I grew up in a place where church services were let out early if a game started at noon. (Skip the benediction, Pastor! The game starts in 30.) Sermons from the pulpit would incorporate more than a few Vince Lombardi quotes and crazy individuals would take off their shirts in below 30 temperatures (for those of you not from the Midwest, that’s December, January and February weather for us), paint themselves in green and gold, and wear a Cheesehead atop their generally receding hairline. I come from Packer country. So football is not just beautiful to me; it’s sacred.

Those of you that know the Brett Favre ordeal know where I am heading. Those of you that do not, let me take this moment to fill you in. Brett Favre, the golden boy of football, made a name for himself with the Green Bay Packers of Wisconsin. He won his MVP titles with the Packers. He broke records with the Packers. Heck, my family cried with him when his wife was diagnosed with breast cancer and then cried some more when his father died right before Brett played the game of his life.

Then March 4, 2008 happened. And the heartbreak began. Favre “retired”— or so we thought. We innocent and trusting Packer fans gave him a hero’s farewell to only have our innocence violated and our trust breached when Favre joined the enemy: the Minnesota Vikings. If you cannot relate to this rivalry, let’s think about it this way: it was like Favre left the Backstreet Boys to join N’Sync, or left Tupac hanging to join Biggie’s crew. I finally know how Julius Caesar felt when betrayed by Brutus (Et tu, Brett?) or when Ralph, the wanna-be Nazi from “The Sound of Music,” betrayed the Von Trapp family. That pain stung.

So perhaps I was being a little childish when I giggled with schoolgirl pride at Favre’s return to Lambeau Field last Sunday — which was met with a chorus of “Boo’s” that lasted long after kick-off. And perhaps I have an irrational dislike for Favre. This all could be true.

Or, perhaps Favre did something that has been looked down upon since the beginning of time: He betrayed his friends. If a football team cannot trust their quarterback, who can they trust? Let’s stop glorifying a man who cannot even respect the franchise that made him what he is today.

After all, I think Lombardi said it best: “Teamwork is what the Green Bay Packers were all about. They didn’t do it for individual glory. They did it because they loved one another.” Thanks for the love, Brett.

—Allena Berry is a sophomore in Peabody College. She can be reached at allena.g.berry@vanderbilt.edu.