Five Athletes More Selfish Than Brett Favre

Plenty of players have been more selfish than Favre in their careers. Here are a few.

Leon. You could put T.O. here, or Keyshawn Johnson, but why do that when you can combine them in a single fictional character amalgamating the worst of both?

The greatest testimonial to Leon's success in portraying the diva behavior of certain NFL skill players: the commercial still gets quoted by NFL players in press conferences. There's no I in team, people, but there ain't no we, neither.

Michael "Mike" Vick. The total value of Michael Vick 2006 hasn't really been truly calculated, but with a ten year, $130 million-plus commitment from the Atlanta Falcons, a $37 million signing bonus, endorsement loot totaling untold potential sums, and the total PR and cash value of Vick as the face of the franchise, Ookie's total net worth was likely well above that of entire countries in the developing world. (Think Sao Tome and Principe, worth a total of $250 million or so according to the CIA World Factbook.) Vick tossed that country-sized amount of money into a bonfire for dogfighting, destroyed a year in the life of a franchise, devalued the worth of any brand he was associated with, squandered his own fortune and the future sums he could pass on to his children, and pissed off everyone he knew because ... um ... dogs fighting got his blood pumping. It's selfishness aggravated by immense stupidity, but it's still astonishingly selfish even with that qualifier.

Shea Hillenbrand. Once wrote "This ship is sinking" and "play for yourself" on the whiteboard in the Blue Jays locker room after he went from "gruntled" to "disgruntled" when Toronto neglected to congratulate him on the birth of his baby daughter. A brief resume, relatively speaking, but a spectacular one at that. Also complained and underperformed his way into being waived by three teams, an impressive achievement for someone who was once an All-Star pick at third base.

Roger Dorn. After a promising first few seasons, Dorn grew accustomed to the soft life at the hot corner, and quickly lost his desire to dive for hot shots down the line or play any kind of defense whatsoever, since a ball to the face could damage his handsome, endorsement-winning face and get him injured in the midst of contract negotiations. Even in the best of times, Dorn's prima donna attitude nearly spoiled the good chemistry of the Indians' clubhouse: during the legendary stretch run of the 1989 Cleveland Indians team, Dorn got into a clubhouse brawl with Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn for murky reasons never fully divulged. (A rumor about Vaughn spending one night of passion with Dorn's wife have never been confirmed by any of the parties involved.) Ironically, an aging and reformed Dorn later went on to sign a lucrative contract with the Mets, where he was an exemplary teammate on the 1991 team despite referring to Bobby Bonilla as "a candy-bar inhaling waste of space," since teammates largely agreed with him.

Ricky Davis. Like Ralph Ellison with Invisible Man, his sole work in the canon of Immense Sporting Selfishness is singularly able to validate his selection in the pantheon of greats: shooting at your own basket in an attempt to complete a triple-double.

Plenty of players have been more selfish than Favre in their careers. Here are a few.

Leon. You could put T.O. here, or Keyshawn Johnson, but why do that when you can combine them in a single fictional character amalgamating the worst of both?

The greatest testimonial to Leon's success in portraying the diva behavior of certain NFL skill players: the commercial still gets quoted by NFL players in press conferences. There's no I in team, people, but there ain't no we, neither.

Michael "Mike" Vick. The total value of Michael Vick 2006 hasn't really been truly calculated, but with a ten year, $130 million-plus commitment from the Atlanta Falcons, a $37 million signing bonus, endorsement loot totaling untold potential sums, and the total PR and cash value of Vick as the face of the franchise, Ookie's total net worth was likely well above that of entire countries in the developing world. (Think Sao Tome and Principe, worth a total of $250 million or so according to the CIA World Factbook.) Vick tossed that country-sized amount of money into a bonfire for dogfighting, destroyed a year in the life of a franchise, devalued the worth of any brand he was associated with, squandered his own fortune and the future sums he could pass on to his children, and pissed off everyone he knew because ... um ... dogs fighting got his blood pumping. It's selfishness aggravated by immense stupidity, but it's still astonishingly selfish even with that qualifier.

Shea Hillenbrand. Once wrote "This ship is sinking" and "play for yourself" on the whiteboard in the Blue Jays locker room after he went from "gruntled" to "disgruntled" when Toronto neglected to congratulate him on the birth of his baby daughter. A brief resume, relatively speaking, but a spectacular one at that. Also complained and underperformed his way into being waived by three teams, an impressive achievement for someone who was once an All-Star pick at third base.

Roger Dorn. After a promising first few seasons, Dorn grew accustomed to the soft life at the hot corner, and quickly lost his desire to dive for hot shots down the line or play any kind of defense whatsoever, since a ball to the face could damage his handsome, endorsement-winning face and get him injured in the midst of contract negotiations. Even in the best of times, Dorn's prima donna attitude nearly spoiled the good chemistry of the Indians' clubhouse: during the legendary stretch run of the 1989 Cleveland Indians team, Dorn got into a clubhouse brawl with Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn for murky reasons never fully divulged. (A rumor about Vaughn spending one night of passion with Dorn's wife have never been confirmed by any of the parties involved.) Ironically, an aging and reformed Dorn later went on to sign a lucrative contract with the Mets, where he was an exemplary teammate on the 1991 team despite referring to Bobby Bonilla as "a candy-bar inhaling waste of space," since teammates largely agreed with him.

Ricky Davis. Like Ralph Ellison with Invisible Man, his sole work in the canon of Immense Sporting Selfishness is singularly able to validate his selection in the pantheon of greats: shooting at your own basket in an attempt to complete a triple-double.

Plenty of players have been more selfish than Favre in their careers. Here are a few.

Leon. You could put T.O. here, or Keyshawn Johnson, but why do that when you can combine them in a single fictional character amalgamating the worst of both?

The greatest testimonial to Leon's success in portraying the diva behavior of certain NFL skill players: the commercial still gets quoted by NFL players in press conferences. There's no I in team, people, but there ain't no we, neither.

Michael "Mike" Vick. The total value of Michael Vick 2006 hasn't really been truly calculated, but with a ten year, $130 million-plus commitment from the Atlanta Falcons, a $37 million signing bonus, endorsement loot totaling untold potential sums, and the total PR and cash value of Vick as the face of the franchise, Ookie's total net worth was likely well above that of entire countries in the developing world. (Think Sao Tome and Principe, worth a total of $250 million or so according to the CIA World Factbook.) Vick tossed that country-sized amount of money into a bonfire for dogfighting, destroyed a year in the life of a franchise, devalued the worth of any brand he was associated with, squandered his own fortune and the future sums he could pass on to his children, and pissed off everyone he knew because ... um ... dogs fighting got his blood pumping. It's selfishness aggravated by immense stupidity, but it's still astonishingly selfish even with that qualifier.

Shea Hillenbrand. Once wrote "This ship is sinking" and "play for yourself" on the whiteboard in the Blue Jays locker room after he went from "gruntled" to "disgruntled" when Toronto neglected to congratulate him on the birth of his baby daughter. A brief resume, relatively speaking, but a spectacular one at that. Also complained and underperformed his way into being waived by three teams, an impressive achievement for someone who was once an All-Star pick at third base.

Roger Dorn. After a promising first few seasons, Dorn grew accustomed to the soft life at the hot corner, and quickly lost his desire to dive for hot shots down the line or play any kind of defense whatsoever, since a ball to the face could damage his handsome, endorsement-winning face and get him injured in the midst of contract negotiations. Even in the best of times, Dorn's prima donna attitude nearly spoiled the good chemistry of the Indians' clubhouse: during the legendary stretch run of the 1989 Cleveland Indians team, Dorn got into a clubhouse brawl with Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn for murky reasons never fully divulged. (A rumor about Vaughn spending one night of passion with Dorn's wife have never been confirmed by any of the parties involved.) Ironically, an aging and reformed Dorn later went on to sign a lucrative contract with the Mets, where he was an exemplary teammate on the 1991 team despite referring to Bobby Bonilla as "a candy-bar inhaling waste of space," since teammates largely agreed with him.

Ricky Davis. Like Ralph Ellison with Invisible Man, his sole work in the canon of Immense Sporting Selfishness is singularly able to validate his selection in the pantheon of greats: shooting at your own basket in an attempt to complete a triple-double.

Plenty of players have been more selfish than Favre in their careers. Here are a few.

Leon. You could put T.O. here, or Keyshawn Johnson, but why do that when you can combine them in a single fictional character amalgamating the worst of both?

The greatest testimonial to Leon's success in portraying the diva behavior of certain NFL skill players: the commercial still gets quoted by NFL players in press conferences. There's no I in team, people, but there ain't no we, neither.

Michael "Mike" Vick. The total value of Michael Vick 2006 hasn't really been truly calculated, but with a ten year, $130 million-plus commitment from the Atlanta Falcons, a $37 million signing bonus, endorsement loot totaling untold potential sums, and the total PR and cash value of Vick as the face of the franchise, Ookie's total net worth was likely well above that of entire countries in the developing world. (Think Sao Tome and Principe, worth a total of $250 million or so according to the CIA World Factbook.) Vick tossed that country-sized amount of money into a bonfire for dogfighting, destroyed a year in the life of a franchise, devalued the worth of any brand he was associated with, squandered his own fortune and the future sums he could pass on to his children, and pissed off everyone he knew because ... um ... dogs fighting got his blood pumping. It's selfishness aggravated by immense stupidity, but it's still astonishingly selfish even with that qualifier.

Shea Hillenbrand. Once wrote "This ship is sinking" and "play for yourself" on the whiteboard in the Blue Jays locker room after he went from "gruntled" to "disgruntled" when Toronto neglected to congratulate him on the birth of his baby daughter. A brief resume, relatively speaking, but a spectacular one at that. Also complained and underperformed his way into being waived by three teams, an impressive achievement for someone who was once an All-Star pick at third base.

Roger Dorn. After a promising first few seasons, Dorn grew accustomed to the soft life at the hot corner, and quickly lost his desire to dive for hot shots down the line or play any kind of defense whatsoever, since a ball to the face could damage his handsome, endorsement-winning face and get him injured in the midst of contract negotiations. Even in the best of times, Dorn's prima donna attitude nearly spoiled the good chemistry of the Indians' clubhouse: during the legendary stretch run of the 1989 Cleveland Indians team, Dorn got into a clubhouse brawl with Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn for murky reasons never fully divulged. (A rumor about Vaughn spending one night of passion with Dorn's wife have never been confirmed by any of the parties involved.) Ironically, an aging and reformed Dorn later went on to sign a lucrative contract with the Mets, where he was an exemplary teammate on the 1991 team despite referring to Bobby Bonilla as "a candy-bar inhaling waste of space," since teammates largely agreed with him.

Ricky Davis. Like Ralph Ellison with Invisible Man, his sole work in the canon of Immense Sporting Selfishness is singularly able to validate his selection in the pantheon of greats: shooting at your own basket in an attempt to complete a triple-double.

Plenty of players have been more selfish than Favre in their careers. Here are a few.

Leon. You could put T.O. here, or Keyshawn Johnson, but why do that when you can combine them in a single fictional character amalgamating the worst of both?

The greatest testimonial to Leon's success in portraying the diva behavior of certain NFL skill players: the commercial still gets quoted by NFL players in press conferences. There's no I in team, people, but there ain't no we, neither.

Michael "Mike" Vick. The total value of Michael Vick 2006 hasn't really been truly calculated, but with a ten year, $130 million-plus commitment from the Atlanta Falcons, a $37 million signing bonus, endorsement loot totaling untold potential sums, and the total PR and cash value of Vick as the face of the franchise, Ookie's total net worth was likely well above that of entire countries in the developing world. (Think Sao Tome and Principe, worth a total of $250 million or so according to the CIA World Factbook.) Vick tossed that country-sized amount of money into a bonfire for dogfighting, destroyed a year in the life of a franchise, devalued the worth of any brand he was associated with, squandered his own fortune and the future sums he could pass on to his children, and pissed off everyone he knew because ... um ... dogs fighting got his blood pumping. It's selfishness aggravated by immense stupidity, but it's still astonishingly selfish even with that qualifier.

Shea Hillenbrand. Once wrote "This ship is sinking" and "play for yourself" on the whiteboard in the Blue Jays locker room after he went from "gruntled" to "disgruntled" when Toronto neglected to congratulate him on the birth of his baby daughter. A brief resume, relatively speaking, but a spectacular one at that. Also complained and underperformed his way into being waived by three teams, an impressive achievement for someone who was once an All-Star pick at third base.

Roger Dorn. After a promising first few seasons, Dorn grew accustomed to the soft life at the hot corner, and quickly lost his desire to dive for hot shots down the line or play any kind of defense whatsoever, since a ball to the face could damage his handsome, endorsement-winning face and get him injured in the midst of contract negotiations. Even in the best of times, Dorn's prima donna attitude nearly spoiled the good chemistry of the Indians' clubhouse: during the legendary stretch run of the 1989 Cleveland Indians team, Dorn got into a clubhouse brawl with Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn for murky reasons never fully divulged. (A rumor about Vaughn spending one night of passion with Dorn's wife have never been confirmed by any of the parties involved.) Ironically, an aging and reformed Dorn later went on to sign a lucrative contract with the Mets, where he was an exemplary teammate on the 1991 team despite referring to Bobby Bonilla as "a candy-bar inhaling waste of space," since teammates largely agreed with him.

Ricky Davis. Like Ralph Ellison with Invisible Man, his sole work in the canon of Immense Sporting Selfishness is singularly able to validate his selection in the pantheon of greats: shooting at your own basket in an attempt to complete a triple-double.

Plenty of players have been more selfish than Favre in their careers. Here are a few.

Leon. You could put T.O. here, or Keyshawn Johnson, but why do that when you can combine them in a single fictional character amalgamating the worst of both?

The greatest testimonial to Leon's success in portraying the diva behavior of certain NFL skill players: the commercial still gets quoted by NFL players in press conferences. There's no I in team, people, but there ain't no we, neither.

Michael "Mike" Vick. The total value of Michael Vick 2006 hasn't really been truly calculated, but with a ten year, $130 million-plus commitment from the Atlanta Falcons, a $37 million signing bonus, endorsement loot totaling untold potential sums, and the total PR and cash value of Vick as the face of the franchise, Ookie's total net worth was likely well above that of entire countries in the developing world. (Think Sao Tome and Principe, worth a total of $250 million or so according to the CIA World Factbook.) Vick tossed that country-sized amount of money into a bonfire for dogfighting, destroyed a year in the life of a franchise, devalued the worth of any brand he was associated with, squandered his own fortune and the future sums he could pass on to his children, and pissed off everyone he knew because ... um ... dogs fighting got his blood pumping. It's selfishness aggravated by immense stupidity, but it's still astonishingly selfish even with that qualifier.

Shea Hillenbrand. Once wrote "This ship is sinking" and "play for yourself" on the whiteboard in the Blue Jays locker room after he went from "gruntled" to "disgruntled" when Toronto neglected to congratulate him on the birth of his baby daughter. A brief resume, relatively speaking, but a spectacular one at that. Also complained and underperformed his way into being waived by three teams, an impressive achievement for someone who was once an All-Star pick at third base.

Roger Dorn. After a promising first few seasons, Dorn grew accustomed to the soft life at the hot corner, and quickly lost his desire to dive for hot shots down the line or play any kind of defense whatsoever, since a ball to the face could damage his handsome, endorsement-winning face and get him injured in the midst of contract negotiations. Even in the best of times, Dorn's prima donna attitude nearly spoiled the good chemistry of the Indians' clubhouse: during the legendary stretch run of the 1989 Cleveland Indians team, Dorn got into a clubhouse brawl with Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn for murky reasons never fully divulged. (A rumor about Vaughn spending one night of passion with Dorn's wife have never been confirmed by any of the parties involved.) Ironically, an aging and reformed Dorn later went on to sign a lucrative contract with the Mets, where he was an exemplary teammate on the 1991 team despite referring to Bobby Bonilla as "a candy-bar inhaling waste of space," since teammates largely agreed with him.

Ricky Davis. Like Ralph Ellison with Invisible Man, his sole work in the canon of Immense Sporting Selfishness is singularly able to validate his selection in the pantheon of greats: shooting at your own basket in an attempt to complete a triple-double.

Plenty of players have been more selfish than Favre in their careers. Here are a few.

Leon. You could put T.O. here, or Keyshawn Johnson, but why do that when you can combine them in a single fictional character amalgamating the worst of both?

The greatest testimonial to Leon's success in portraying the diva behavior of certain NFL skill players: the commercial still gets quoted by NFL players in press conferences. There's no I in team, people, but there ain't no we, neither.

Michael "Mike" Vick. The total value of Michael Vick 2006 hasn't really been truly calculated, but with a ten year, $130 million-plus commitment from the Atlanta Falcons, a $37 million signing bonus, endorsement loot totaling untold potential sums, and the total PR and cash value of Vick as the face of the franchise, Ookie's total net worth was likely well above that of entire countries in the developing world. (Think Sao Tome and Principe, worth a total of $250 million or so according to the CIA World Factbook.) Vick tossed that country-sized amount of money into a bonfire for dogfighting, destroyed a year in the life of a franchise, devalued the worth of any brand he was associated with, squandered his own fortune and the future sums he could pass on to his children, and pissed off everyone he knew because ... um ... dogs fighting got his blood pumping. It's selfishness aggravated by immense stupidity, but it's still astonishingly selfish even with that qualifier.

Shea Hillenbrand. Once wrote "This ship is sinking" and "play for yourself" on the whiteboard in the Blue Jays locker room after he went from "gruntled" to "disgruntled" when Toronto neglected to congratulate him on the birth of his baby daughter. A brief resume, relatively speaking, but a spectacular one at that. Also complained and underperformed his way into being waived by three teams, an impressive achievement for someone who was once an All-Star pick at third base.

Roger Dorn. After a promising first few seasons, Dorn grew accustomed to the soft life at the hot corner, and quickly lost his desire to dive for hot shots down the line or play any kind of defense whatsoever, since a ball to the face could damage his handsome, endorsement-winning face and get him injured in the midst of contract negotiations. Even in the best of times, Dorn's prima donna attitude nearly spoiled the good chemistry of the Indians' clubhouse: during the legendary stretch run of the 1989 Cleveland Indians team, Dorn got into a clubhouse brawl with Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn for murky reasons never fully divulged. (A rumor about Vaughn spending one night of passion with Dorn's wife have never been confirmed by any of the parties involved.) Ironically, an aging and reformed Dorn later went on to sign a lucrative contract with the Mets, where he was an exemplary teammate on the 1991 team despite referring to Bobby Bonilla as "a candy-bar inhaling waste of space," since teammates largely agreed with him.

Ricky Davis. Like Ralph Ellison with Invisible Man, his sole work in the canon of Immense Sporting Selfishness is singularly able to validate his selection in the pantheon of greats: shooting at your own basket in an attempt to complete a triple-double.

Plenty of players have been more selfish than Favre in their careers. Here are a few.

Leon. You could put T.O. here, or Keyshawn Johnson, but why do that when you can combine them in a single fictional character amalgamating the worst of both?

The greatest testimonial to Leon's success in portraying the diva behavior of certain NFL skill players: the commercial still gets quoted by NFL players in press conferences. There's no I in team, people, but there ain't no we, neither.

Michael "Mike" Vick. The total value of Michael Vick 2006 hasn't really been truly calculated, but with a ten year, $130 million-plus commitment from the Atlanta Falcons, a $37 million signing bonus, endorsement loot totaling untold potential sums, and the total PR and cash value of Vick as the face of the franchise, Ookie's total net worth was likely well above that of entire countries in the developing world. (Think Sao Tome and Principe, worth a total of $250 million or so according to the CIA World Factbook.) Vick tossed that country-sized amount of money into a bonfire for dogfighting, destroyed a year in the life of a franchise, devalued the worth of any brand he was associated with, squandered his own fortune and the future sums he could pass on to his children, and pissed off everyone he knew because ... um ... dogs fighting got his blood pumping. It's selfishness aggravated by immense stupidity, but it's still astonishingly selfish even with that qualifier.

Shea Hillenbrand. Once wrote "This ship is sinking" and "play for yourself" on the whiteboard in the Blue Jays locker room after he went from "gruntled" to "disgruntled" when Toronto neglected to congratulate him on the birth of his baby daughter. A brief resume, relatively speaking, but a spectacular one at that. Also complained and underperformed his way into being waived by three teams, an impressive achievement for someone who was once an All-Star pick at third base.

Roger Dorn. After a promising first few seasons, Dorn grew accustomed to the soft life at the hot corner, and quickly lost his desire to dive for hot shots down the line or play any kind of defense whatsoever, since a ball to the face could damage his handsome, endorsement-winning face and get him injured in the midst of contract negotiations. Even in the best of times, Dorn's prima donna attitude nearly spoiled the good chemistry of the Indians' clubhouse: during the legendary stretch run of the 1989 Cleveland Indians team, Dorn got into a clubhouse brawl with Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn for murky reasons never fully divulged. (A rumor about Vaughn spending one night of passion with Dorn's wife have never been confirmed by any of the parties involved.) Ironically, an aging and reformed Dorn later went on to sign a lucrative contract with the Mets, where he was an exemplary teammate on the 1991 team despite referring to Bobby Bonilla as "a candy-bar inhaling waste of space," since teammates largely agreed with him.

Ricky Davis. Like Ralph Ellison with Invisible Man, his sole work in the canon of Immense Sporting Selfishness is singularly able to validate his selection in the pantheon of greats: shooting at your own basket in an attempt to complete a triple-double.

Plenty of players have been more selfish than Favre in their careers. Here are a few.

Leon. You could put T.O. here, or Keyshawn Johnson, but why do that when you can combine them in a single fictional character amalgamating the worst of both?

The greatest testimonial to Leon's success in portraying the diva behavior of certain NFL skill players: the commercial still gets quoted by NFL players in press conferences. There's no I in team, people, but there ain't no we, neither.

Michael "Mike" Vick. The total value of Michael Vick 2006 hasn't really been truly calculated, but with a ten year, $130 million-plus commitment from the Atlanta Falcons, a $37 million signing bonus, endorsement loot totaling untold potential sums, and the total PR and cash value of Vick as the face of the franchise, Ookie's total net worth was likely well above that of entire countries in the developing world. (Think Sao Tome and Principe, worth a total of $250 million or so according to the CIA World Factbook.) Vick tossed that country-sized amount of money into a bonfire for dogfighting, destroyed a year in the life of a franchise, devalued the worth of any brand he was associated with, squandered his own fortune and the future sums he could pass on to his children, and pissed off everyone he knew because ... um ... dogs fighting got his blood pumping. It's selfishness aggravated by immense stupidity, but it's still astonishingly selfish even with that qualifier.

Shea Hillenbrand. Once wrote "This ship is sinking" and "play for yourself" on the whiteboard in the Blue Jays locker room after he went from "gruntled" to "disgruntled" when Toronto neglected to congratulate him on the birth of his baby daughter. A brief resume, relatively speaking, but a spectacular one at that. Also complained and underperformed his way into being waived by three teams, an impressive achievement for someone who was once an All-Star pick at third base.

Roger Dorn. After a promising first few seasons, Dorn grew accustomed to the soft life at the hot corner, and quickly lost his desire to dive for hot shots down the line or play any kind of defense whatsoever, since a ball to the face could damage his handsome, endorsement-winning face and get him injured in the midst of contract negotiations. Even in the best of times, Dorn's prima donna attitude nearly spoiled the good chemistry of the Indians' clubhouse: during the legendary stretch run of the 1989 Cleveland Indians team, Dorn got into a clubhouse brawl with Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn for murky reasons never fully divulged. (A rumor about Vaughn spending one night of passion with Dorn's wife have never been confirmed by any of the parties involved.) Ironically, an aging and reformed Dorn later went on to sign a lucrative contract with the Mets, where he was an exemplary teammate on the 1991 team despite referring to Bobby Bonilla as "a candy-bar inhaling waste of space," since teammates largely agreed with him.

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