Three miles down U.S. Route 98, a visitor sits in the empty waiting room of a two-story office building. It belongs to Brett Favre’s agent. There are no magazines. There are no pictures of the prince. The visitor waits. And he waits. He watches a paint crew arrive. He watches a paint crew depart. He watches paint dry.
But he hears things. Phones ringing. Phones slamming. Cussing. Lots of cussing. An hour passes. A secretary apologizes for the delay. Finally, a Southern almost-gentleman appears. He’s the man behind the salty phone voice, and his face and ears are beet red. There’s no suit. Rather, he’s dressed in the uniform of the affluent adult child — shorts, sneakers, and golf shirt. He sticks out his hand.
“Bus Cook. I know you’re media, but do you know who I hate? The ******* media! You watch ESPN this morning?”
“No.”
“Brett talked to ********* Ed Werder at ESPN, says he needs ankle surgery. Now why did he do that? I’ve got Childress calling. I’ve got reporterscalling all damn morning. *********, why does he have to be such a ********* drama queen? Play, don’t play, *******, people are getting sick of it. I’m getting sick of it!
Why does he have to talk to these people? What good does it do? Ed Werder at ESPN! What’s he ever done for anybody other than say, ‘Look, look, Mommy, I got this first, ain’t I special?’ You got problems with surgery, talk to your wife. Why talk to ********* Ed Werder?”
A giant white pickup truck rumbles into the parking lot. The driver gingerly steps down from his perch. Cook looks out the window. He mulishly paws the rug with his sneakers.
“*******, there’s Brett. This is going to be interesting.”
“Hey, Bus,” says Favre.
He speaks slowly, a boy trying to delay a spanking.
“I guess I screwed up. I didn’t think it was a big deal. I just told him that I might need surgery. He made it into a big thing.”
Bus stares him down, but his face crumples into an exasperated grin.
“Jesus, Brett. You never learn. You guys go talk. I’ve got ******* phone calls to make.” He pokes a finger at Brett. “Thanks to you.”