I would just add that one of the things I loved about Brett Favre, and something that I think separates him from the rest, is the way he was able to gut through games with scrappy performances, even when he didn’t have his best stuff. Wlady is right that his gambling often meant throwing the ball up for grabs and into traffic when he was under pressure, and racking up a lot of interceptions. But how many times did we see him get picked off, bang his palms against the side of his helmet in frustration, only to set himself up for a miraculous comeback later in the game? He didn’t have the machine-like efficiency of Peyton Manning, or the coolness of Joe Montana. But the level of passion he brought to the game, the fact that he would make costly mistakes and then recover, made him seem more human, and it became much easier for mere mortals such as myself to appreciate him. I don’t think we can really pick one quarterback who is the single best of all time, but he sure deserves to be in the pantheon of greats–if for no other reason than that he was so fun to watch. If I could allow myself to get carried away, I would make a comparison to classical music. Composers such as Mozart and Bach attained technical perfection, but Beethoven broke all the rules, and still produced something beautiful. That’s kind of how I’ll remember Favre. And I’m not even a Packers fan.