If you’ve been living in a cave the past few weeks then you probably… scratch that. Everyone who’s anyone, cave-dweller or not, has heard the sad truth. A number 4, outlined in gold on a green background, will no longer spring out of the tunnel at Lambeau Field. Instead, it will find its way onto the walls of the hallowed facility, joining the numbers of men like Ray Nitschke and Reggie White.

Throwing my own personal feelings aside, as I admittedly jumped on both the Packer and the Favre bandwagons last season, I thought it only appropriate to list out the stages of grief that Wisconsinites are probably feeling, Favre style.

1. Denial

The streak can’t be over. It will not be the same to see a number besides 4 crouching under center. It’s hard to accept that the hard counts next year will not include Favre’s signature “Blue-58… SET.” It’s hard to imagine never seeing one of his signature He-Didn’t-Just-Do-that shovel passes or underhand flips with a defensive tackle hanging on him. It’s ridiculous to think that Donald Driver won’t need to have his fingers X-rayed after running slant patterns. It’s terrible to even fathom that Favre’s last pass has sailed into the arms of Corey Webster, with Driver looking on helplessly.

The streak can’t end. One of the greatest quarterbacks of all time cannot allow his final pass to have been a season-ending interception. This can’t be happening; it must be a hoax, a ploy put on by the Packers to fool the rest of the NFL into a false sense of security.

2. Anger

Dammit Brett, how can you go out this way? This team is finally among the elite again after a couple average seasons and now you leave? You just had one of the best seasons of your career. Had Tom Brady deigned to produce stats worthy of a mere human, or had Randy Moss donned the green and gold last season, you probably had a great shot at a fourth NFL MVP award.

But wait, maybe it isn’t your fault. Why didn’t the Packers go out and get Randy Moss last year? Maybe Brett would have felt better about coming back if he had the greatest receiver in the league to come back to. I can’t believe that Ted Thompson didn’t grab him when he could have. Thanks a lot, Ted. Now, who else can we lash out at? Mike McCarthy? Aaron Rogers? Deanna Favre?

3. Bargaining

Maybe I’ve spoken too soon. I’m sorry about all those harsh things I just said. Of course it’s not Deanna Favre’s fault, the woman exemplifies class. Mrs. Favre, do you think you could try and convince your husband to come back for one more year? If he’ll listen to anyone it would be you, right? Please, could you just try?

I’d also like to apologize to Aaron Rogers. It’s not your fault. Oh, I know. Mr. Rogers, could you pretend to be injured, or maybe actually injure yourself? Maybe Brett only left us because he thought that you could fill his shoes. If you went down, he might realize how much we still need him.

Brett, if you come back, or if you even just think about it, I’ll name my first kid after you, even if it’s a girl.

4. Depression

He’s not coming back. He’s gone, he’ll never play again. It won’t even be football without him. I don’t even want to turn on the TV on Sundays anymore. I don’t even want to get out of bed anymore. In this new, Favre-less world, what’s the point in going on? There’s no such thing as the Packers without Brett Favre. I’ll never see him celebrate like a little kid when he throws a touchdown pass again. It was the most beautiful thing in the world, to see him play, and now it’s gone, it’s not coming back.

All the records, all the smiles, all the great times, I don’t even care anymore, it won’t be the same. Let’s just have the Pack play with only ten people on offense from now on. We can skip the handoff part and just let Ryan Grant run it every time. I never want to have another quarterback who calls Lambeau home. I don’t know what to do. He’s gone. He’s not coming back.

5. Acceptance

Hooray, now it’s finally me speaking my mind again instead of trying to imagine what others are thinking or thought on the day of March 4, 2008. The truth of the matter is, I saw this coming. When Favre chose to skip the Pro Bowl for a hunting trip, it was a sign: he didn’t want to play his last game as a game that didn’t matter.

Even though the outcome was not desirable, Favre was old school and he knew that he wanted his last game to be a gritty, ice cold, memorable battle on the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field. That’s what he got. He’s Brett Favre and he’s gone. Favre broke every significant quarterback record last season: passing touchdowns, passing yardage or wins as a quarterback, to name a few.

After years of disappointing finishes, ranging from a six-interception game at St. Louis that put the finishing touches on a season to a bitter home loss to the Minnesota Vikings in the wild card round, he finally had the kind of season he wanted to go out on.

The Favre era is over, yet hope remains while the fans are faithful. The keys to this young and talented team will be handed over to an equally young and talented quarterback, much like a father handing down a pocket watch or ring. While one of the greatest chapters in NFL History has come to a close, this is not the end. This is just another step. It’s time to move on.

Come September, the streak will officially end. Aaron Rogers will receive the play from Mike McCarthy and look around the huddle on a fall afternoon. His eyes will meet with every single one of his guys’ eyes, and he’ll smile to himself, realizing that they are now, officially, his guys – his Packers.