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The Daily Cardinal Est. 1892
Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Favre jersey wearer has moved on, so will Matt

It is a strange feeling standing on the brink of my college graduation. This month will see my emergence from the cocoon of UW-Madison as I'm welcomed into the cruel and unforgiving real world. It's somewhat frightening, but you don't have to take my word for it - up to 80 percent of you (according to statistics) will understand what I'm talking about soon enough. My graduation will also mark the end of my tenure at The Daily Cardinal. 

 

I found it difficult to find a topic for my last column. I felt a slight obligation to wrap up the year with some insightful comments - something inspiring, something deep or a beautiful quotation that would bring us all together. Realistically, though, I see no reason to wax poetic about my tenure. I'm not going to fall into that indulgent, self-aggrandizing paradigm. There was also a fleeting inclination to pick a complex issue and eruditely lay out my arguments, but then I figured, why start now?"" I plan on going to go out the same way I came in - criticizing a twelve-year-old boy.  

 

Let me start by saying that 'hero' isn't a word I throw around, but if you asked me a month ago to name my greatest hero I might have said David Witthoft. No, David didn't save any lives (directly), he didn't invent a cure for a debilitating disease, and if I bought him a beer to show my appreciation he wouldn't legally be able to drink it. And while he may not be old enough to see a PG-13 movie, he does have the power to change lives.  

 

The youngster from Connecticut gained acclaim after he began wearing a Brett Favre jersey every day after he'd received it for his seventh birthday.  

 

Before you scoff, I know we all might have our days where we wear the same thing twice, but David is in a league all his own. David wore the number four jersey for 1,581 days in a row. If Cal Ripken, Jr. is the Iron Man of baseball, surely David is the Iron Man of garment wearing (an impressive commitment, despite the obvious lack of required skill).  

 

As we know, all good things must end. A few weeks ago David went to school Favre-less. The boy's father conceded his son was starting to become more concerned about his appearance after the jersey barely came down to his belt line - which I originally thought was a cheap cop out. I thought that if the Romanian Olympic committee can keep those gymnasts so small, there must be ""something"" we can do to keep David's jersey fitting indefinitely. Eventually, however, I did come to my senses, but not without a long grieving process. 

 

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First, blindsided with the news, I felt angry. The anger faded into a deep pain. I asked myself, how could David execute such an effrontery to the state I have grown to love? That pain gradually ceded into fear. I had looked to the David Witthoft's of the world for stability.  

 

His jersey wearing escapades coincided with the happiest years of my life. I always knew the time would come when it would end, but I guess when you're in the middle of an enjoyable multi-year endeavor you never really have that kind of foresight (or, is it that we try to fool ourselves?). 

 

Over time I came to see things differently. As I thought about it more I began to sympathize with David and I felt better about my own uncertain future. After all, we're not so different. We've both forged our own indelible ties to Wisconsin, but now we must both move on. It's time for greener (or at least newer) pastures; For some this might include something with buttons or a collar - maybe even long sleeves. For others this might mean a soul-crushing job in the work-a-day world. Either way, there is no use fighting it.  

 

Its fair to assume I've taken this tortured metaphor far enough. I hope you've enjoyed it. I know I have. And since I've already broken my first promise, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to end with the previously alluded to quotation. But first just let me say I've immensely enjoyed my time here. I think I've matured, but perhaps that's a mixed blessing. A much better writer than I once wrote, ""Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter can be said to remedy anything."" And I have to say, I couldn't agree more.  

 

Matt Jividen is a senior majoring in history. This is Matt's final column in The Daily Cardinal. Please send responses to opinion@dailycardinal.com.

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