Brett Favre (Pt. 5 of 5): Playing in Green Bay, Rehab, and the Shocking Thing That Happed to Him Twice—Which Nobody Ever Knew!

This is Our American Stories, and we tell stories about all kinds of things on this show. And one of our favorites has been our series of talks with Brett Favre about life outside of the goalposts. And that’s what we do here on this show as often as possible: tell the rest of the story and in the main character’s voice without interference from us. This is the fifth part of a five-part series on Brett Favre and with Brett, and this one focuses on living and playing in the small, blue-collar city of Green Bay, Wisconsin, and the trials he faced, trials that forced him through the doors of a drug rehab center three times, and the thing that happened twice, which nobody knew. Here’s Brett Favre.

Throughout my sixteen years in Green Bay, things happened: lost my father, my wife got breast cancer, I lost my brother-in-law, my stepfather-in-law, I lost him, went through drug rehab for pain pills, and then immediately. After that, we won the Super Bowl. So I think people were kind of like, “Yeah, you know, he’s one of us.” Sometimes, you know, I, too, oftentimes—and should, I should know better. I look at someone who’s in a prominent, whether it be professional sports or politician, an actor, like I really like Tom Hanks.

There’s not many people I would want to meet.

In fact, he’s probably the only one. If I had a chance to meet someone, I’d love to meet Tom. But he seems like…

Just a regular guy.

But also, like everyone kind of said after Kobe died, it’s like, you know, “He’s not supposed to die.” And I think people look at athletes and celebrities and politicians sometimes as immune to whatever, and the course, that’s not the case. And so I lived it, and I think being in Green Bay certainly helped because it was a perfect fit for me. I don’t think I realized it until several years in that this was tailor-made for me, not L.A., not New York, not Chicago, not all the cities are bigger because people could relate to me, and I could relate to them very similar to where I grew up and not a whole lot different than Hattiesburg, other than the climate. You know, just hard-working, blue-collar people, and so I think they could identify with, with me, and I just happened to be their quarterback.

So it was a perfect, perfect fit.

And I think, you know, like with Aaron Rodgers, and he’s a, he’s a friend.

They love him because he’s their quarterback, but they don’t really connect with him.

And that they can identify and they can relate to me, and so, you know, yeah, like with Tony Mandarich, and I saw his story. I was actually my first year in Green Bay. He went through training camp and got cut, so I got a chance to know him, and I, I just remember it thinking, “What happened to this guy?” I remember doing my press conference in 1996.

Right before—well, when I got out, it…

It was the day before training camp. But when I went in treatment, I spent 75 days, too, because I was a little bit rebellious. Well, I didn’t want them. They told me everything I needed to do. I had to sign in to go to lunch with the group. And when I finally realized if I want to get out of here, I better do exactly what they say, that was about 75 days into it.

But anyway, I remember…

The press conference and how difficult that was—to announce that I had not only to go to treatment, but for pain pill addiction. Because I had everything going that was that that season ended up being in my third MVP season in a row, so I had two previous. But it was amidst the, the just the heart…

Of my addiction.

I mean, it was at its worst. Surprisingly, that I was able to function like that. You know, they play at a high level and sleep maybe an hour a night, taking fifteen Vicodin at one time.

But it was a great…

It was great to have it happen in Green Bay, where people had compassion—all the things that’s happened to me. I was thankful what happened in Green Bay. So, and, you know, I mean, being from there. They loved their Packers, but they love their people, too. People asked me, because I actually went three times. The first time I went to a place in Rayville, Louisiana, and it looked…

I couldn’t believe.

When I pulled up to this place, I said, “This is a rehab?” I thought it was like some Sanford Son type place. It was like a little shack, but it was…

It was good.

I stayed there 28 days. I would stop one thing and continue another. So I wanted to drink, but…

The pain pills were a 75-day in.

Topeka, Kansas, at Menninger Clinic. The Rayville, Louisiana, was prior to all that, and that was for pain pills.

But I wasn’t ready to stop, and I—the league didn’t make me go.

I went voluntarily, even though my arm was twisted. I’d had two seizures in Green Bay, one in the hospital right after ankle surgery, after the after the previous season.

1995 season, and then during the… excuse me.

After the 1994 season. And the 1995 season was the season before we won the Super Bowl. During that season, I had a seizure the night before game, which people obviously didn’t know, and that really kind of started the ball rolling, like, “Why are you having seizures while I was atsleeping?” So my brain was basically short-circuiting.

And you just heard a remarkable story: a three-time MVP, Hall of Fame quarterback, running on one hour of sleep, a serious pill habit, and suffered two seizures, too, and no one knew about them. And you’re hearing about that for the first time here—not because we like breaking news; that’s not why you tune in here, but to hear the real story and the real humility. And he’s not kidding when he says he’s glad he was in Green Bay because this country boy, tucked away in Los Angeles from New York, Chicago, and the ending would have been much worse, even listening to Brett Favre. This is part five of a five-part series here on Our American Stories. In his own words, by the way, Tony Mandarich—what a story! We’ve done that one, too, in Tony’s own words—from the heights of NFL success to drug addiction and worse, and then the rise up. And we love the redemption story here. And we’re always rooting for people when they’re down—whether they’re in a prison or anywhere else. When they’re at their low, that’s what we love to come in and love on them, and we treat them as if they’re members of our own family, just like you would. And if you have stories like this, they don’t have to be some big, fancy football quarterback story, because in the end, that’s why people related to Brett. He was like the rest of us, and he is. These people are no different, and we all know that it’s we who treat them different and put them on these statues. And then when they fall, we rip them apart, and it’s just so wrong. Brett Favre’s story, here on Our American Stories.