The Front Row with JERRY HITCHCOCK, August 27, 2010

For the umpteenth time it seems in recent history, Brett Favre showed up at a training camp well after it was under way, and the whole organization cheered.

Just when we all thought this might be the year No. 4 calls it quits and remains down in the deep South, media cameras in helicopters showed him jumping in and out of SUVs on the way to Minnesota Vikings camp last week, glad-handing organization officials and heading inside to begin his 20th season as a signal caller in the NFL.

THE SPECULATION remains: When will he hang it up? He turns 41 in October, pretty ancient for a NFL quarterback. If his ankle holds out, maybe he can have another productive year. Maybe two. Maybe ... who knows?

There have been some great stories about sports figures calling it quits at the prime of their careers, and just as many (especially these days with so many millions floating around) who hang on until it is fairly evident that they head for the rocking chair.

Al Kaline, my boyhood idol, hung up his glove for good on Oct. 4, 1974, after 19 seasons in the bigs and needing one homer to reach 400. He told me during a baseball card show signing in 1989 that he didn't feel the need to come back for another number. And it's true - he had nothing left to prove. Al, a team-first kind of guy, finished with 3,007 hits and was a first-ballot Hall of Famer, a pretty decent broadcaster and a first-rate model American.

Mike Schmidt of the Philadelphia Phillies hit 548 home runs in 21 seasons with the team - his only major league team. He pulled himself out of the action in May of 1989 after a poor start to the season. Another guy who wanted to go out on his own terms - not riding the bench, waiting for things to improve.

BACK TO football, Terry Bradshaw said "enough" after 14 seasons, and four Super Bowl rings, for the Pittsburgh Steelers. Unfortunately for all of us, he went on to an acting career and we, also unfortunately, saw more of his post-middle-age backside than we would have liked when his movie "Failure to Launch" came out.

Joe Namath - Broadway Joe - predicted his only Super Bowl win with the New York Jets in 1969. Knee injuries plagued him, and his days with the Los Angeles Rams in the late 1970s were tough to watch. Even tougher to watch was his champagne-induced pickup attempt of TV interviewer Suzy Kolber during a Jets game in December of 2003.

"The King," Arnold Palmer, played to the delight of "Arnie's Army," his throng of fans that circled the course with him at every event, well past his prime. While he was no longer able to shoot low enough to contend in tournaments, his attraction never waned to true golf fans. I think they would parade after him if he was still out on the course shooting in the high 80 or low 90s. His legacy, the guy who truly put golf on the American map, was long since etched in stone when he quit entering Champions Tour events in 2005. Arnie loved the game - and still does - and fans would pony up to watch the frailties in his swing (probably much like their own) and just enjoy the journey.

In comparison, Jack Nicklaus and Tom Watson remained on the leaderboard of majors well into middle age. The Golden Bear has since hung it up, but Watson continues to compete at majors and Champions Tour events.

So where does all this leave Mr. Favre? He won a Super Bowl back in 1997 with the Packers, so he's not sticking around solely for another ring. And he has millions he'll probably never spend.

I think it really boils down to that competitive fire. Favre is just one of those athletes that can't leave well enough alone. After being taken out of Sunday's preseason game with San Francisco, Favre said he has "unfinished business," and he felt "obligated to the guys" to come back.

As long as he hits open receivers and stays a half-step beyond the reach of opposing linemen, someone will want him running an offense. The day will come soon enough when it's apparent his presence is better suited for a rocker on a Mississippi porch than behind center in a stadium in the fall.

The big question is, will anyone, including his own family, actually believe him when he next says his career is over?

Jerry Hitchcock is a copy editor for The Press. He can be reached at 664-8176, Ext. 2017, or via e-mail at jhitchcock@cdapress.com.