One more time Brett Lorenzo Favre surprised us.

One last time he confounded conventional wisdom.

For the better part of 17 often-remarkable seasons, all but one of them in Green Bay, you never knew what the Packers quarterback might do, only that it would probably be exciting.

So when the 38-year-old Favre pulled the plug yesterday on a career dead solid certain to whisk him to Canton, and the Pro Football Hall of Fame, it was altogether fitting that the retirement announcement came from somewhere out of the blue, too.

After a 13-win season in which performance had belied his age, the betting was that he would be back for another. But, then, wagering on Favre was always a curious if not risky proposition.

For this was a guy who was as apt to throw the ball from any number of angles and release points that defied the textbook form and made quarterback coaches cringe. Off his wrong foot. Side-armed. Underhanded. Double or triple coverage, so what? You name it and he chucked it up there with odds-defying pluck.

Sometimes the results were spectacular. At other times, like what turned out to be his final pass in the NFC Championship game loss to the New York Giants, they could be deflating. Rarely, however, were they boring.

And following that let-it-rip inclination Favre earned an enduring following for more than just the multitude of records he acquired along the way. He was somebody every former pick-up game and sandlot participant could relate to for the passion, abandon and durability with which he played the game.

Appropriately, Favre leaves holding both the NFL records for touchdown passes (442) — and interceptions (288). Laudably, he departs as the ironman quarterback, having started 253 consecutive games — 275 including playoff appearances. He'll be remembered for giving the storied Packers their first championship in 29 years and counted among the greats.

Watching him, you got the feeling that the way he approached the game before the TV cameras on the frozen tundra at Lambeau Field wasn't a whole lot different from the way he drew up plays in the Mississippi mud back in Kiln as a youngster. The stakes were just higher.

For all the cookie-cutter players the league turns out at his position, Favre never got squeezed into the mold. He was — and remained — a fun-loving original. He could lead the Packers into the playoffs one week and contently jump on the tractor at his 460-acre ranch outside Hattiesburg, Miss., the next. And often did.

He was flawed and human and rarely pretended to be otherwise. And he was embraced for the way he overcame challenges and hung in against tragedy.

Now, he'll be missed as much for the breath of fresh air he brought the NFL as the considerable void he leaves.

Reach Ferd Lewis at flewis@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8044.