On his last play in his first home game as a Viking, a rival franchise's exiled legend threw a last second, game-winning touchdown pass he didn't see on a play he didn't remember practicing to a receiver he had barely met.
This is what it means to be Brett Favre.
This is what it means to have Brett Favre.
This is what it means to watch Brett Favre.
"I was on the sidelines saying, 'Be Brett, be Brett, be Brett,' " defensive end Jared Allen said. "The Silver Fox came through."
As a prelude to his grudge match with the Packers and an homage to what he did to the Vikings as a Packer, Favre displayed the agony and the ecstacy of Favre-watching in one long afternoon.
He threw lasers to receivers who didn't know they were open. He threw shotgunned mallards toward grateful defenders. He sprinted downfield to body-block one of the best linebackers alive.
He limped and winced, looking older than pyramid dust, and, just when you started wondering why he ever left the Mississippi ranch with the ornate F on the gate, Favre led the kind of drive the Vikings envisioned when they let him treat them like lovestruck teenagers all summer.