Brett Favre made me cry.

It's true, I'm not ashamed. I found myself watching #4's retirement press conference and it dawned on me: This is the end of an era, not as much for the NFL or even the Green Bay Packers, but the end of my child hood sports heroes. They're all gone. Marcus Allen, James Hasty, Brian Waters, Jerry Rice, Barry Sanders, Dominique Dawes, George Brett, Joe Randa, Mark Gubicza, Appier, Craig Biggio, Bagwell, MJ, Pippen, Shawn Kemp, John Stockton, Fred "Crime Dog" McGriff, and so many others.

Some are still great: Smoltz and Chipper. Mutombo.

A few of my childhood icons are still hanging, limping, and lingering on.

Randy Johnson isn't the same pitcher without a 105mph fastball.

Ken Griffey Jr. has never been the same explosive player he once was since he moved to Cincy and shredded his knee (I never really liked him because he never played with passion. It just felt like he played because his dad did and he could make a shit ton of money doing it. The other thing was, he wore long pants. I place the blame of that terrible trend and every other uniform fashion statement squarely on his shoulders, (i.e. C.C. Sabathia and his crooked hat, baggy jerseys, etc).).

Shaq is not the same brilliant, agile dominating athlete that rocked movie theaters with not one, but two great films (Blue Chip and Kazaam). I can hardly watch him crawl through 25 minutes a game trying so hard to catch up with the Suns.

It's a whole other blog to talk about the fact that a majority of my heroes were 'roided up beyond belief.

Brett Favre just closed the door. He was the last of my heroes. A throw back to the type of players my dad grew up admiring. Players like the Chiefs' E.J Holub, a hall-of-fame-caliber linebacker and a larger-than-life Texas rancher in the offseason. A gritty, tough, manly man. Someone who embodied selflessness, passion, and guts. Kansas City's own construction player turned All-Star, Frank White.

The athletes today are great. Maybe better than the ones I grew up loving. But for me, no one's bat will ever make the same crack sound as Brett, play as smoothly as Marcus, run as fast as Jr. or embody passion and toughness like Brett Farve.