Brett Favre is back and I have been both saddened and mystified by the avalanche of expert commentary about what a bad move this was for the Minnesota Vikings and their new quarterback.

The ridicule and hatred are astounding to me and the expert writers, radio hosts, television guys and callers to shows have spent countless hours talking about why Brett shouldn't have done this. About why he's a drama queen. They've talked about his alleged ego and his alleged desire to get out of training camps and his alleged need for special treatment.

This is my chance for what I hope will be the end of the "why would he do this?" stuff.

I heard former Packers safety Eugene Robinson on the radio last week. Robinson has always been an astute and articulate athlete who played his position with thought and passion. And what he said sparked a memory in me that may well be the truth as to why Favre wants to keep playing.

"Nobody can ever know what its like," Robinson said, "unless you've done it. There is nothing in the world like it. Nothing. And when it comes to an end, that's it. You will never feel those things again. I'm happy Brett can still do it. I wish I could. When it's gone, it's like a death in your family. Like a death."

I've thought a lot about what Robinson said, and in thinking about it, I find that I know exactly what he's talking about. And I want to share it.

I have acted in many plays in my life, both amateur and professional. And I often find myself thinking of one particular production. It was "The Merchant of Venice," staged by Milwaukee Shakespeare several years ago. It still ranks as one of the most spectacular productions ever seen in Milwaukee.

The production was directed by David Chambers, a big-time director of the Yale School of Drama.

Being in that play was a unique experience. The actors and designers and support staff all merged into one family. We spent hour upon hour just hanging out. Brett had his locker room, and our locker room was a room just off the rehearsal hall. We gossiped. We talked about our families. We were sympathetic to difficulties and we were full of joy for success. Nobody was jealous.

And it was intimate. It's hard to have pretense and phoniness when you are changing clothes while someone else is lounging on a tattered couch nearby. Brett is famous for being a practical joker. We had laughs, too, and some tears. I know things about some of those actors I don't even know about some family members.

Every night, we went home and there was nothing I wanted more than for tomorrow to come so I could be back in rehearsal, back in that room. There was such a common purpose. Every practice for Brett was pointed toward the game. We all were getting ready for opening night.

I love my wife and my family and some of my friends. But, I've never loved anyone the way I loved the people in that play. The process of getting to the performance was not an adrenaline rush. But, it was about the velocity of the blood. It roared with passion.

And then, it came to an end. We all knew when it was coming, but that didn't make the sadness any less sorrowful. Many of us gathered in a bar after the final performance and that gathering had all the elements of a great Irish wake. We told funny stories. We gently ribbed each other. We talked about our hopes for our future. But the body lay in the coffin.

To this day, I miss that time. I would give almost anything to capture that feeling again.

And, I'd bet my last dollar that's how Brett Favre feels and what keeps driving him. Just as I never expect anyone to understand everything about "The Merchant of Venice," I don't expect anyone to truly understand what drives Brett Favre.

I don't think I'm the only one who has ever gone through this. I hear people who play in bands say the same thing. And there's a saying in the Armed Forces: "If it weren't for women and children, men would never leave combat." It's that special feeling, unique and one that can't be replicated. Doing something because you love it.  When you can't do it anymore, it is like a death.

Maybe this will help soften the criticism a little bit. After all, we don't have that many heroes anymore. Brett Favre is one and we should do all we can to keep him in that special place in our hearts that we reserve for heroes.