What if the Green Bay Packers are beating the Chicago Bears 42-0 late in the second quarter of the 2015 season opener and President Obama finally decides that he's had enough? 

At halftime, the president/Bears fan announces a new program called the "De-Favreification of America." To enact a little bit of revenge against Packers fans, Obama orders all video footage of Brett Favre destroyed. No more watching Favre torch the Bears for five touchdowns on a bum ankle. No more re-living the moment when Favre broke Dan Marino's touchdown recrod. No more jumping for joy as Favre takes his helmet off and runs around the field after throwing a touchdown pass in Super Bowl XXXI.

No video highlights during the Favre ceremony when the Packers play the Bears on Thanksgiving. They'll all be destroyed. Thanks Obama...

Obama orders the De-Favreification program to be implemented immediately, but after some intense lobbying and threats from Wisconsin cheese makers to discontinue nationwide cheddar production, Obama relents and says that Americans may vote for one Favre highlight to preserve. The rest must be destroyed.

Which highlight do you choose?

Here's mine: 

Favre-to-Sharpe in the 1993-94 playoffs will always be my favorite because it happened while I was hanging out with my grandmother when I was 12 years old. My grandmother's Alzheimer's had set in at that point in her life and my uncle was doing his best to take care of her.

I'd occasionally "babysit" my grandmother at her old farmhouse when my uncle had things to do. By "babysit," I mean hanging out to keep my grandmother company and make sure she didn't put herself in any danger. To a lot of 12 year olds, this might not sound like much fun, but I loved it. I didn't mind answering the same questions over and over again from my grandmother, or having conversations that made no sense whatsoever. My grandmother didn't recognize me and probably had no recollection of anything we talked about, but I knew she was better off by having me there to talk with. Even though I was a young, smart-ass 12-year-old, I also knew I needed to cherish all the time I could get with my grandmother. I wouldn't trade the time I spent with her during her battle with Alzheimer's for anything.

Anyway, the television in her old farmhouse had rabbit ears and poor reception. It picked up one channel, two on a good day. Thankfully, the Packers vs. Lions playoff game on CBS was the channel it picked up that day. It came in just good enough for me to follow what was going on.

I spent most of the game telling my grandmother about football. She would ask me for the 114th time if I needed something to eat, I would tell her about Reggie White. She'd ask where her husband was (who had been dead for several years), I'd tell her about Mike Holmgren's West Coast offense. She'd get sad or upset about something. I'd try and get her to chant "Go Pack Go."

That might sound silly, but any conversation with my grandmother was a good one at that point in her life. Anything to keep her engaged and talking. On that day it was the Packers. Other days it was hunting, farming or some family history or gossip.

Late in the game, Favre connected with Sharpe for the winning touchdown. I remember my exact feeling when Favre made that throw. "Why is he trying to throw the ball straight through the roof?"

On the old farmhouse television with its snowy screen, mismatched colors and general shakiness -- it looked like all Favre was doing was launching the ball straight up in the air. Then the ball actually came down, landed in Sharpe's hands, and I went crazy. I must have did 10 laps around the living room where my grandmother and I were sitting. I couldn't stop pumping my fists and hollering.

I finally sat back down next to my grandmother. She asked: "Are you watching ball?"

"Ball" to my grandmother typically meant "baseball," but I've convinced myself that in this particular instance, she meant football. 

I told her yes, I was watching "ball," then went on to explain how this guy named Favre just got the Green Bay Packers their first playoff win in a very, very long time.

She didn't understand the significance of the moment. But neither did I. Little did I know that that pass would be the first of many distinct Brett Favre moments in my lifetime.

I'm glad I got to witness the first one with my grandmother.