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Quarterback controversies are the richest act in football.

They take a sport that is all about the team — which involves dozens of players making complex decisions — and boil it down to one simple debate.

But for 16 years, there was never any question about who should be the quarterback of the Green Bay Packers. Not since the day Brett Favre was anointed starter for Week 4 of the 1992 NFL season.

Since that time, no other quarterback has started a game for the Packers — an unparalleled streak of 275 consecutive games (including playoffs) during which he's won three NFL most valuable player awards and led the Packers to two Super Bowls, winning one.

Over that span, Favre became the most sanctified athlete in American sport, taking on a stature south of the border not unlike that enjoyed by Wayne Gretzky in Canada. Favre, it seemed, could do no wrong, even when he battled a pain-killer addiction, even though among his many NFL records is one for most interceptions.

The fact that he rose to fame in the uniform of perhaps the most-beloved franchise in American sports, one of the few that's been insulated from the cynicism associated with the modern business, made his story all the more mythical.

And it made the events of the past few weeks that much more stunning, with Favre — who announced his retirement in March but who had a change of heart this month and said he wants to play again — having the door slammed in his face by the very team with which he became a cultural icon.

As the start of training camp approaches, the Favre saga has taken on the form of a Shakespearian drama, with both sides claiming betrayal and no resolution in sight.

Public drama is nothing new in the NFL. The league thrives on it. But this isn't Terrell Owens versus the Philadelphia Eagles or Adam (Pacman) Jones versus NFL commissioner Roger Goodell.

Favre's showdown with the Packers is different because, in many ways, Brett Favre is the Packers. And the Packers, a publicly-owned franchise playing in a tiny market, are the feel-good team of U.S. professional sports.

No one symbolized that more than Favre, whose boyishness and working-class charm were instantly embraced by arguably the most loyal fans in football.

"When you look at the games, I felt no one really wanted to see other guys on the team," said Steve Morley, a former Packers offensive lineman who now plays for the Saskatchewan Roughriders in the CFL.

"They just want to see Brett. Even at away games, they're just there to see Brett, not the Packers. It will be interesting to see when he's not there."

Green Bay may have been the first dynasty of the Super Bowl era with back-to-back championships in the game's first two editions, but for the next quarter-century the Packers were a disaster.

In the 24 seasons after its victory in Super Bowl II, Green Bay participated in three playoff games and won just one.

In Favre's 16 seasons, they've played in 22. And through it all, Favre, though his roots were in the Deep South, seemed every bit at home in a place frozen hard by each November.

Even though Favre was drafted by the Atlanta Falcons in 1991, he was every bit a Packer.

His arrival in a trade before the 1992 season was unheralded. But within a few years, he was the embodiment of all the Packers stood for — being held as high in regard as the great Packers players from those early Super Bowl years.

Other NFL greats — Joe Montana, Marcus Allen, Joe Namath and Emmitt Smith — ended their careers in unrecognizable colours. But not Favre.

The quarterback even said as much when he signed a 10-year contract extension — extraordinary in football terms — with the Packers in March of 2001. While Favre would return each off-season to his home in Hattiesburg, Miss., there was no sense of him angling to play anywhere but the small northern city whose fan base knows no bounds.

"I couldn't envision myself playing for another team," Favre said in 2001. "If that would ever come up, I'd probably just retire."

Retirement seemed just a remote possibility last January, when Favre threw an interception during overtime of the National Football Conference championship game at Lambeau Field, one that led directly to a game-winning field goal for the New York Giants and the end of the Packers' season.

Surely, Favre couldn't end it all on that note?

And almost from the moment he announced his retirement in March, there was skepticism that he was gone from the game for good. Within weeks, reports surfaced that he was having second thoughts. And they continued until Favre confirmed earlier this month that he'd asked Green Bay for his job back.

The ensuing feud between Favre and Packers general manager Ted Thompson has stunned the sports world.

Almost from the day Thompson was hired as GM in 2005, there had been reports of disagreements with Favre.

And so, when Favre this week confirmed that he and Thompson had argued over such things as what players the Packers should retain and which players they should pursue — most notably current New England Patriots wide receiver Randy Moss, whom Favre lobbied hard for — it merely confirmed that cracks had been developing long before his retirement announcement.

Football has always been a sport where coaches and management have a stranglehold over players. And no one demonstrated that more than legendary Packers head coach Vince Lombardi, who ran the team with an iron fist in the 1960s, and after whom the Super Bowl trophy is named.

But prior to Thompson's arrival, it was Favre who had the biggest influence on the Packers. Professional sports is full of instances where star players receive preferential treatment. But few have ever operated under their own set of rules as Favre did during his prime with Green Bay.

"He had a lot of say on the team when I was there and basically did his own thing," Morley said. "He almost ran that team like a coach and no one questioned what Brett did.

"He could skip meetings and some practices, do his own plays and if he didn't like something he'd say I want to do it this way. No one else has done that on any other team I played on."

According to Morley, Favre's special treatment was never an issue with the rest of the Packers players, who understood his importance to the team. They generally liked and respected him and understood his place in the universe.

"Everyone is kind of in awe of him," Morley said. "He's definitely a good guy. He knew the game so well, in and out."

It's certainly not a stretch, however, to believe Thompson had a different view of things when he arrived, taking over the GM duties from Mike Sherman, who remained the team's head coach.

Thompson, who had been with the Packers during the 1990s before becoming the Seattle Seahawks' vice-president of operations for five seasons, was the only one interviewed for the GM role. He was given a five-year contract and full control of all aspects of football operations — what was described as his dream job.

Thompson immediately began to put his stamp on the team. He cut several veterans and spent Green Bay's first pick in the 2005 draft on University of California quarterback Aaron Rodgers. And when the Packers went 4-12 in 2006, he fired Sherman — who had a record of 53-27 before Thompson's arrival — and replaced him with Mike McCarthy, a move Favre openly questioned this past week.

By the time the Packers hit the field for the playoffs in January, 40 of the 53 players on their roster had been acquired by Thompson. The Packers were his team in all significant ways but one.

Football executives, particularly in the NFL, have a reputation of wanting to demonstrate that no player is bigger than the team. And there are those who believe that premise is at the very heart of the current standoff between Favre and the Packers.

When Thompson took over, it was understood that his reign would be judged by the post-Favre era. And the Packers appeared to be preparing for that eventuality as reports surfaced that Favre was being made more accountable under Thompson and McCarthy and that the quarterback's every whim was no longer being answered.

And while Thompson wouldn't go so far as to try and push Favre out, the quarterback's decision to retire in March opened the door for a changing of the guard.

The fact that Thompson had received a new five-year contract extension in January only emboldened him to set sail with Rodgers and confidently close the books on Favre.

Rodgers waited three full seasons before being thrust into the spotlight with Thompson's endorsement when Favre walked away.

What occurred next is a matter of much debate: Favre claims the Packers avoided his requests to return; the Packers claim Favre refused to commit to the season before July.

"Brett got agitated because he called Ted Thompson several times and got no response," a source familiar with the situation said. "He almost felt like a guy on the street trying to get a job. It degenerated from there and the last thing they told him was that they'd moved on.

"Ted is consumed with getting the credit, with it being his team. The first step was getting rid of Mike Sherman and there have been other steps. But this is the last step, the biggest step to 'this is my team.' "

Despite the stalemate, the back-and-forth accusations and the bitterness between Favre and the team, it remains difficult to imagine him as anything but a Packer. The team's fans, scattered not just around Wisconsin but throughout North America, are caught between their beloved hero and embracing the future.

Without a doubt, the Packers would be a much different organization today had they never made what seemed at the time like an insignificant trade with Atlanta to acquire Favre.

Years later, that move seems like destiny for both the player and the team. But as the Packers are learning, the only thing more difficult than finding a once-in-a-lifetime superstar is divorcing from one.

They stayed too long

Brett Favre had a chance to walk away from the NFL at the top of his game, at 38, after leading the Green Bay Packers to a 13-3 record last season and an appearance in the National Football Conference championship game. While there have been a few great quarterbacks who've gone out on top — John Elway, for instance — most do not. Here are five who should have walked away earlier than they did:

• Johnny Unitas, retired at 40, with San Diego Chargers. Played just five games in the 1973 season, throwing three touchdowns and seven interceptions.
• Joe Namath, retired at 34, with Los Angeles Rams. Played just four games in the 1977 season, throwing three touchdowns and five interceptions.
• Dan Marino, retired at 38, with Miami Dolphins. Played 11 games for Miami in 1999, throwing 12 touchdowns and 17 interceptions.
• Ken Stabler, retired at 39, with New Orleans Saints. Played just three games for the 1984 Saints, completing two touchdown passes and throwing five interceptions.
• Bart Starr, retired at 37, with Green Bay Packers. Starr finished his career in 1971, appearing in four games with three interceptions and no touchdown passes.