Two years ago a Wisconsinite (by way of Mississippi) told the breathless media hordes that, sniff, wipe tears, snuffle, sigh, that he was, gulp, swallow, wipe tears, retiring from the game of pro football. This was, of course, after delaying and dawdling and diddling around for months on end whilst leaving his team twisting in the wind over his "fate", causing endless fevered speculation about whether or not that maybe, just maybe, he might really decide to return for another season as the QB for his "beloved" Green Bay Packers. The team was left hanging effectively without a QB, and they eventually decided to name his backup as the new starter, thus "dissing" the 16-year vet by "forcing his hand".
He was told that he could come to camp and compete for the job if he so desired. Fresh off this "insult", the Wisconsippian up and bolted to the New York Jets to play for them, but not after trying everything he could think of in order to get the Packers to trade him to their bitter divisional rivals, the Minnesota Vikings. The Southern-born fellow played well for about half the season before tailing off his production, partly due to injury.
Following the seaso this man of hod, cement and edifices dillied and dallied and engaged in all sorts of hand wringing about whether or not he would return to the Jets, who had paid him handsomely. Finally, after consulting the moon and stars he announced (again) quite tearfully, at least in his mind, that, yes, he was done with football, and retired from the game for the second time.
Immediately, the worshipful but mainly skeptical media began to speculate about whether or not this "future Hall of Famer" would somehow manage to un-retire and sign with his old rivals, the Vikings.
Our intrepid Mississippinite held talks with members of the Vikings and gave them indications that he would, indeed, join their team. He then had surgery on his throwing arm, and, after working out following rehab, and extending his self-imposed deadline several times, tearfully (we suppose) told everyone that he had at last decided to retire from pro football, as he did not believe he could perform at the level to which he was accustomed.
Immediately, the now-somewhat-less-than-worshipful but no less skeptical media brgan to speculate about how soon the retired blue jeans-wearing gentleman would join the Vikings. It certainly did not take long, as two Vikings QBs suffered some injuries, and, as quick as you please the ex-Packer, a demi-god among his fans in Green Bay, at least until he left the team with bad feelings, joined the Vikings.
At the press conference this now-happy fellow told all that his signing was not about "revenge" on his former team, but while he really wanted to play, he mainly wanted to miss the grinding work of training camp at his advanced age. He's 37 or so this year.
Skipping training camp is the best way I know of to let everyone know you are a leader and a team player, and that the universe does not revolve around you. If he wins games, however, no one will likely care much.
The truth is, sir, you love the limelight, the attention, the adoration, the fans chanting your name while wearing your jersey, and most of all, a chance to stick it to your former team, the one that you "loved" but whom you believed insulted you when they asked you to let them know if they could count on you for the upcoming season. You are a media whore who feels incomplete without the spotlight shining on you, and even though Minnesota may not be the media capitol of the world, it is a far sight closer to it than Hattiesburg, Mississippi, from whence you sprang.
As the late, great Paul Harvey was wont to say, "He would want me to mention his name."