NFL 100: At No. 22, Brett Favre stood out more than anyone but made sure everyone fit in (2024)

Welcome to theNFL 100,The Athletic’s endeavor to identify the 100 best players in football history. Every day until the season begins, we’ll unveil new members of the list, with the No. 1 player to be crowned on Wednesday, Sept. 8.

Billy Joe Tolliver cannot recall laughing harder than the time during the 1991 NFL season when Brett Favre, his new Atlanta Falcons teammate, made an unscheduled stop in a hotel hallway before a game against Washington at the old RFK Stadium.

“I mean, I thought I was going to die, I’ve never laughed so hard,” Tolliver said.

This may or may not be the funniest Favre story retold here on the occasion of his No. 22 ranking in The Athletic’s NFL 100.

Truth be told, where Favre belongs on such a list hardly concerns the men who suited up with him across 302 games and 20 seasons with Atlanta, the Green Bay Packers, New York Jets and Minnesota Vikings. The 71,838 yards passing, the 508 touchdowns and, yes, the 336 interceptions matter less to Favre’s football brothers than the teammate whose ability to connect with every one of them off the field, regardless of background, inspired them on it.

“As a player, I don’t think you ever see another Brett Favre, and here’s why,” former Green Bay safety LeRoy Butler said. “When he came into this locker room, he fit in with everybody: the African-Americans, the white guys, the older guys, the younger guys playing Atari and SEGA Genesis, the rookies, the coaches, the towel guys, the guys that walk around with the big tweezers to pick up the dirty stuff — everybody.”

Three MVP awards, two Super Bowls, one championship and a record 297-game quarterback starting streak matter, of course, but those things aren’t what resonate when former teammates reflect on what made Favre special to them.

“He lived two houses down from the house I purchased in Green Bay, so he had to drive by my house to get to his house,” said former cornerback Tyrone Williams, who was a third-round pick in 1996, the season Favre won the second of his three consecutive MVPs. “I’d be in the yard playing with the kids, so they would see the truck coming and yell for Brett. He’d stop and my kids always went up to the truck, talked to him, whatever.”

During one of these neighborhood truck stops, Favre invited Williams to join him and his brother for a round of golf at the Green Bay Country Club. Williams had never golfed in his life. He said he’s been hooked on the game ever since, plays to a single-digit handicap, runs golf training programs for kids and owns a company that produces golf bags.

“Brett flew in cases of blue crabs and we would eat them, stuff like that,” Williams said. “I was a rookie and in my second year. He was MVP. I’m just trying to get on the team, but he was just a great guy like that.”

Williams’ reference to blue crabs returns us to the story Tolliver was telling about that unscheduled stop in the hotel hallway before that 1991 game at Washington.

“We come out of the meeting and we’re walking back to our room in the hotel,” Tolliver said. “These people had ordered fried shrimp, and you know how you set your plate out in the hallway?”

The strangers on the other side of the closed hotel room door had polished off the succulent meat, leaving behind only remnants.

“Favre walks by,” Tolliver said, “and he goes, ‘Look at those tails! They left the best part!’”

Tolliver kept walking. He soon realized Favre was no longer walking with him.

“I turned around and looked and he’s bent over eating those fried shrimp tails off that guy’s plate that were left in the hallway,” Tolliver said, howling at the recollection. “They were fried. I mean, they put a good scald on them. I mean, I wanted to have one myself, but that was just the way he was, just country from down on the Bayou.”

Forget about putting on airs. Favre couldn’t even put on a sportcoat.

“One of the best stories, because it sums up Brett, is when we went to the NFC Championship Game,” Butler said.

Coach Mike Holmgren required players to wear sportcoats on the plane.

“I remember Mike had to tell Brett to go buy a damn suit,” Williams said.

Favre deplaned wearing a collared shirt, sans jacket. Holmgren’s face reddened.

“Brett reached in his backpack, pulled out a sportcoat, knocked the wrinkles out, put it on like, ‘Hey, I’m ready to go,’” Butler said. “He just wanted to be a normal guy. It was almost embarrassing. I’m like, ‘Dude, you’re a three-time MVP, you can’t go out to Pic ‘N Save by yourself.’ He’d ask why not. Fans would come up to him, ‘Favre, I love you’ and he’d say, ‘I love you, too.’ That was the first time I heard a guy tell the fans he loved them.”

If a rookie needed to move some furniture into an apartment, the league MVP’s pickup was probably available. You’d be hard-pressed finding Favre in a Porsche — well, except for that one time outside the American Pie watering hole in Atlanta.

“Oh, man, let me tell you about that,” Tolliver said. “That’s so beautiful.”

Favre and Tolliver became fast friends on the Falcons. Both came from tiny Southern towns with populations below 1,500. Neither took himself too seriously. Both loved to golf. They would hit the course just about every day following offseason workouts, until one time, after about two weeks of near-daily golf, the two were flat worn out.

“It just so happened that morning, it’s summertime, it’s hot, and both of us had khaki shorts and a white polo golf shirt on,” Tolliver said. “We think nothing of it. It’s hot. You wear a white shirt. We get finished working out and Favre goes, ‘Man, do you really want to play golf today?’ I said, ‘Favre, I’m so sick of golf right now, I could stand to take a day off.’”

Favre suggested tipping back a few beers instead. Tolliver was game.

“So, we headed over to American Pie and we park around the back so (Falcons coach Jerry) Glanville couldn’t scout us out,” Tolliver said. “We walk around the front there and as we’re rounding the corner of American Pie, this guy just comes flying by us and he’s got khaki shorts on and a white shirt, like ours, and he’s the valet guy.”

Tolliver was new to Atlanta. He had played two seasons as a part-time NFL starter, both on the other side of the country, with San Diego. Favre was a rookie second-round pick from Southern Mississippi. They could have been fraternity brothers for all anybody knew. Or valets.

“We walk another 20 yards up there,” Tolliver said, “and this guy, about a 60-year-old man, he comes pulling up in this Porsche and he slides it up in there real hot and he jumps out and he gets this little 25-year-old hottie out of the passenger side and he looks at us and he throws me the keys and he says, ‘Put ‘er in a good spot, boys.’”

What were a couple of backup quarterbacks in khaki shorts and white polo shirts to do?

“I’m looking at this dude and he’s looking at this girl and then I’m looking at Favre and Favre is staring at me,” Tolliver said.

Was Favre thinking what Tolliver was thinking? Of course he was.

“Needless to say, we got in that Porsche and we drove the tires off of it and then we come back sliding up in there and Favre’s got her coming sideways when we come in,” Tolliver said. “He jumps up, pitches the keys to the old boy and says, ‘Put her in a good spot.’”

For as much fun as Favre and Tolliver had together as backups to Pro Bowler Chris Miller in Atlanta, the situation was doomed to failure.

General manager Ken Herock had overruled Glanville and the coaching staff in drafting Favre over Louisville’s Browning Nagle, creating internal strife. Favre wasn’t interested in being anyone’s backup, but instead of dedicating himself to winning over the coaching staff, he checked out, resigned to the fact the staff wasn’t invested in his success.

The first time Favre attempted a pass in a regular-season game, Washington linebacker Andre Collins picked him off and raced 15 yards for a touchdown. That wasn’t quite how offensive coordinator June Jones had drawn up the play.

“We were getting beat down and June tells me, ‘Hey, we are going to let the kid finish this one out, get him some film and stuff like that,’” Tolliver said. “So Favre goes out there and June calls, I want to say it was Mike Pritchard on a shallow cross. Favre drops back there and that head is down and he just lets go of this fricking missile. It’s 100 miles an hour on like a 7-yard route.”

Pritchard had no shot at making the catch. Favre had been on the field for one play, and the deficit had widened from 49-17 to 56-17. Glanville barked at Favre along the sideline after the play, while Jones tried to summon his young quarterback to a sideline meeting.

“Hey, how about that, my first pass in the pros was a touchdown,” Favre told his exasperated head coach.

“Yeah, but it was for the other team,” Glanville replied.

“Hell, 30 years from now, no one is going to remember that,” Favre cracked.

Pritchard walked by just as Jones finally tracked down Favre.

“Mike, you learn to catch that ball right there, I’ll make you famous,” Favre told his wideout.

Jones looked at Tolliver. Tolliver looked at Jones.

“I think the kid gets it,” Tolliver told his offensive coordinator.

It was a comical exchange.

“Me and June just walked off in different directions and Favre is sitting there saying, ‘Hey, what did you guys want?’” Tolliver recalled. “That was pretty much the moment when I knew for a fact that this guy’s got it.”

Favre finished that loss to Washington with zero completions in four attempts with two interceptions. Those were the only four passes he attempted in live game action for the Falcons, although Favre did sometimes impress during competitive periods in practice.

“I knew he had the talent,” Glanville said. “You could not disguise what was laying there in the weeds. But he did things that you have to decide, is one individual bigger than the team? I’ll just say this, I’ve been coaching since ’64, and he is the only guy I ever coached that is not in the team picture.”

Favre could not be found as the Falcons made preparations for their 1991 opener at Kansas City. He failed to show for the walk-through, missed the team picture and hadn’t checked in with anyone.

Glanville was furious. Tolliver, acquired days earlier so the staff could have a more experienced and reliable backup behind Miller, was conferring with Jones when a frazzled Favre suddenly drove up in a rush, emerged from his car and ran over to his head coach.

Favre told Glanville he’d been involved in a car accident on the way to the facility. It was a difficult sell, to say the least, with Favre’s undamaged car parked in plain view. Favre took another run at an alibi, explaining that his buddies from home were visiting, and the group had been involved in an accident while delivering Favre to the facility, leading them to return home so that Favre could retrieve his own vehicle.

“Is that your final story?” Glanville asked.

“Well, would you believe I saw a wreck?” Favre answered.

Glanville stared down his young quarterback.

“Favre, you are a wreck,” the coach said.

The Falcons traded Favre to the Packers for a first-round pick on Feb. 11, 1992. Herock hated to do it, but he felt there was little choice under the circ*mstances. Defending Favre at that stage of his career was a losing proposition, even though the talent was obvious.

“God gave all of us gifts and some of us multiple gifts,” former Packers linebacker George Koonce said, “but when Brett was standing in line to receive his gifts from God, God told him, ‘I want you to go back around and get in line again, because I got some more to give you.’ The way the ball came out of his hand, we as defensive players used to just marvel.”

Packers GM Ron Wolf and Herock were close friends and former co-workers, so Wolf knew how much Herock loved Favre as a talent. Wolf had planned to draft Favre to the Jets in 1991, only to have Herock select the quarterback one spot before the Jets were on the clock.

There were other competitive tie-ins. Herock, who had played for Bill Walsh with Oakland and Cincinnati, had wanted to hire Walsh’s top assistant, Holmgren, to the Falcons, but the organization didn’t want to wait through the 49ers’ playoff run. Herock also made a hard pitch for Reggie White in free agency, only to have the Packers land him.

“Some friend Ron Wolf is,” Herock said. “We always laugh about it. I say, ‘You son of a bitch.’ I couldn’t get White signed. I couldn’t get Brett to stay here. I wanted Holmgren, but I get Jerry Glanville.”

Wolf was so eager to consummate the deal for Favre and so fearful the trade might collapse, he neglected to insist upon standard language making the deal contingent upon Favre passing a physical examination. That led to stressful moments for the newly hired Wolf when a Packers team doctor failed Favre on his initial physical, citing injuries sustained in a very real car accident Favre had suffered in college.

“I’d just bought a house,” Wolf said, “and I’m thinking, ‘sh*t, I’m fired,’ but it worked out. Brett never missed a game for the Packers, ever.”

Holmgren’s hard coaching and structured, timing-based offense provided Favre with a foundation that was lacking in Atlanta. Still, Favre’s evolution took time.

“One thing I’ll always remember with Brett was the first practice seeing him live,” said Seahawks GM John Schneider, who was with the Packers at the time. “We were on the sideline, Brett threw an out route that got away from him, threw it over our heads. It hit the side of the indoor facility and it sounded like a fricking shotgun went off, it was so loud. And we’re like, ‘Holy cow, we gave up a first-round draft pick for this guy.’”

It wound up being the greatest trade the Packers ever made.

In January 1994, Favre led the Packers to their first postseason victory in more than a decade, 28-24 against the Detroit Lions in a game featuring an incredible play in final two minutes.

Favre had by then already thrown two touchdown passes to Sterling Sharpe, including a 28-yard missile that might have punctured the Pontiac Silverdome if Sharpe hadn’t snared it at the goal line with a defender on his back. Favre, 25 at the time, had also thrown a pick-six interception that day, not that he would have dwelled on such a thing.

Favre had about a minute remaining in his first playoff start, following a 1993 regular season in which he tossed an NFL-high 24 picks, including four against these same Lions with playoff seeding on the line a week earlier. The Packers were within a few yards of attempting the tying field goal.

Chris Jacke blasted practice kicks into a sideline net, but this game wasn’t coming down to the kicker, not with the dice in Favre’s hands. The most prolific of the gunslinger quarterbacks would have shocked no one if he’d thrown his second pick of the game or coughed up his 15th fumble in 17 games that year.

What actually happened helped send Favre hurtling toward three successive MVP seasons.

Favre rolled to his left, well outside the hash, and launched the ball at an awkward angle to the right corner of the end zone, more than 50 yards in the air, with pinpoint accuracy to Sharpe for the winning touchdown.

In the chaos that ensued along the Packers’ sideline, Favre hoisted into the air an older member of the team’s support staff who apparently hadn’t quite processed the outcome.

“It’s OK, kid, we’ll get ’em next time,” the staffer told Favre, thinking the Packers had lost.

So many extreme outcomes were possible when Favre had a football in his hands. No one could be too certain what might happen, or sometimes even what had actually happened. It’s what made Favre the most compelling quarterback of his era, perhaps of any era.

There were some certainties. Favre would play every week for 297 consecutive starts, no matter how many shades of purple, green and yellow various joints might have turned. It’s an absurd streak accomplished during a rougher era. The streak began a year before Mosaic (later Netscape) introduced the first commercially popular web browser. It ended nearly two decades later with a team announcement sent to millions of smartphones via Twitter. Favre’s palpable joy for the game and for competing was another constant.

Wolf said he’d take Favre over any quarterback, including Aaron Rodgers, because he knew if there was a game tomorrow or anytime, Favre would be in the lineup, guaranteed. During the 297-game starting streak, 238 other quarterbacks started games in the NFL.

“The thing about Brett Favre is that he had to play the game,” Wolf said. “That was so important to him. He had to play. And what a great mindset that is.”

Favre tossed 112 touchdown passes from 1995-1997, his MVP seasons. John Elway ranked second in the league over that stretch with 79. No one else had even 70.

The Packers, led not only by Favre but also elite defenders such as Butler and Reggie White, dominated during their 1996 championship season especially. They won by lopsided margins through the playoffs: 35-14 against the San Francisco 49ers, 30-13 against the Carolina Panthers and 35-21 against the New England Patriots.

Favre was at his peak, and so were the Packers.

“I loved the guy because it wasn’t about him,” Butler said. “Brett used to be embarrassed talking about MVPs around his teammates because he knew how important we were to him. I think that is why we won. We would run through a wall for him.”

Holmgren and an offensive staff featuring multiple future head coaches — Andy Reid, Jon Gruden and Steve Mariucci were a few — had reached Favre though a combination of tactics. They made it clear to the quarterback that they believed in him, that their own careers hinged on his performance. They also coached him hard, and sometimes harshly. Favre also got healthier through reduced partying and professional rehab to conquer a reliance on painkillers.

“There are a lot of fabulous quarterbacks, but not everyone has the locker room like he did,” Holmgren said. “All his teammates loved him. Now, he was a knucklehead sometimes with me, but they loved him and they played hard for him and he had so much fun playing. And they recognized that.”

If Holmgren provided the old-school discipline and structure in the Walsh mold, Favre provided the irreverent counterbalance to keep the Packers loose.

“He was the only guy in the history of the NFL who had the guts to prank the head coach, the team president, the GM, Reggie White,” Butler said. “Every time there was a joke, Brett did it.”

Holmgren would post the schedule for the week. Favre would change the times.

White would be holding a news conference at his locker. Favre would secretly sabotage him with fart spray.

When coaches couldn’t find their cars, Favre may or may not have had their vehicles moved to the other side of the building.

After practices, as players hurried to make use of limited showers before reporters entered the locker room for interviews, Favre was somehow ready before everyone else.

“He found out the coaches would go right upstairs to meet after practice, so he would go in the coaches’ locker room and take a shower,” Butler said. “Next thing you know, about eight or nine of us are over there taking showers. They got all the good stuff: Old Spice, Drakkar, Brut by Faberge. I’m like, ‘This is nice.’ The coaches are, ‘Who’s been showering in our shower?’ Hey, I don’t know, but Brett always found a loophole.

“The guy was truly amazing to come up with some of this stuff, and it was always in fun. He can always take a joke, too. That is important.”

Teammates would put Icy Hot in Favre’s jock strap. “Y’all got me, no big deal,” the quarterback would say.

“There was one minicamp, we did not want to come in a day early,” Butler said. “Next thing you know, we get a call, ‘Hey, you can come in the next day, Brett is playing golf at Green Bay Country Club.’ Next thing you know, all the guys over 30, we can leave early. ‘Brett, did you have something to do with it?’ Allegedly. That was the favorite word in the locker room — allegedly — because you don’t know if he did it or if it’s true or not. It just brought us closer.

“So, when his dad passed and he played against the Raiders anyway and receivers are jumping over guys catching passes, I was not surprised by that, because everybody wanted to just win for the guy. It’ll never be another one. They broke the mold.”

(Illustration: John Bradford / The Athletic; photo: Jonathan Daniel / Getty Images)