THE CHEAP SEATS with STEVE CAMERON: Telling Favre's latest story makes me feel not so good

This should be an exciting time.

The Mariners play a postseason game for the first time in two decades this afternoon.

Washington State ventures into the smog of Los Angeles on Saturday with a shot at turning over unbeaten, No. 6-ranked (and soon to bolt the conference) Southern California.

That same night, arguably the deepest — and certainly one of the most gifted — Gonzaga teams of Mark Few’s amazing tenure will be introduced during a raucous Kraziness in the Kennel.

And there’s more …

Let’s not forget the Coeur d’Alene-Lake City football game, the contest that I’m determined will eventually become known as the “Brawl for the Awl.”

It should be a rockin’ weekend.

Unfortunately …

I’m having a hell of a tough time staying fired up for all these fun events.

In fact, I can’t shake some awful feelings about a furor going on 2,285 miles from here — Hattiesburg, Miss., in fact.

I suppose part of this story also belongs in Jackson, the state’s capital.

Wherever you want to set it down geographically, the whole thing is making me downright sick to my stomach.

HAVE YOU read or heard about the allegations leveled against NFL Hall of Fame quarterback Brett Favre?

You know, good ol’ boy Brett, Green Bay Packers legend and the guy playing backyard football in those Wrangler jeans?

Well, I have a personal connection to Favre, to his family, and to the Mississippi that shaped his life — Fenton, where he grew up (no, not Kiln, as so many national publications insist); North Hancock High, where his dad coached him and would NOT let him pass the ball in an old-fashioned Wing-T formation; Southern Mississippi University in Hattiesburg, where he got the very last scholarship coming out of high school; and of course, Green Bay, where he did throw plenty of passes and brought home a Super Bowl trophy.

For so many years, my association with Brett and his family was a highlight of my career.

I was privileged to write the Packers’ 75th anniversary commemorative coffee-table book, and from that wonderful experience came another book — about the gunslinger QB that everybody loved.

It was called …

“BRETT FAVRE: Huck Finn Grows Up”

I’ve never had more fun on a project, in part because Brett’s mom, Bonita, took me under her wing and basically gave me a tour of her famous boy’s youth.

There were hilarious stories of this country kid with the golden arm — he once knocked out a youth league first baseman with a throw from shortstop, and basically didn’t make it as a pitcher because he was likely to kill some bat boy.

Or spectator.

Bonita also took me out for honest-to-goodness rice, beans and sausage, a fair compromise when I just couldn’t face a lunch of gator tails.

In fact, I kind of fell in love with that part of Mississippi, down by the Gulf of Mexico.

Stories about Brett, from toddlerhood to college and on to Green Bay ranged from outright laughter to …

“Are you kidding me?”

There were serious pieces to the whole Favre puzzle, too.

Brett spoke honestly about a painkiller addiction that, among other things, allowed him to set an NFL record for consecutive games played.

That book was just incredibly fun to do, and I believed that it would stand the test of time as a damn good bio of a genuine sports hero.

I was proud of Brett for what I considered his honesty, and proud to have done the best of my 14 books.

AND NOW?

My “Huck Finn” has more than just a tarnished hero.

He’s not just a former athlete who maybe shoved someone in a saloon, or made a magazine cover over marital troubles, or upset the media by refusing to sign autographs at a speaking engagement.

This isn’t about a hero who didn’t quite live up to his status as a role model.

No.

Brett Favre stands accused of being part of a welfare corruption scheme in Mississippi that so far has totaled $77 million, one of several conspirators who took money intended for the poorest people in the poorest state in this nation.

Favre, whose estimated net worth is around $110 million, first came to the attention of authorities when he lobbied for $2.2 million to help fund Prevacus, a pharmaceutical start-up aiming to create a nasal spray that would ease concussions.

The problem was WHERE he suggested the money be found.

According to Front Office Sports …

“Favre has since been connected — often through his own texts that have appeared in court filings — to more than $8 million in misspent funds that came from Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF), according to court documents and sources.”

IT GETS worse …

“Favre lobbied for $5 million from TANF funds to build a volleyball center at the University of Southern Mississippi, his alma mater and where his daughter played the sport at the time.”

So, while that investigation goes forward, here’s another piece of reporting to make you ill …

The Athletic has reported that Favre’s own non-profit charity, Favre 4 Hope, also has siphoned off money for the Southern Miss athletic department.

More?

Favre’s wife, Deanna, is a breast cancer survivor, and started a charity for fellow sufferers — and even THAT has been folded into Brett’s non-profit.

So, yes, donations for breast cancer survivors appear to be paying for volleyball and various other sports venue improvements at Southern Miss.

Honestly, I feel woozy over it all.

However the scandal unfolds, whether Favre is actually charged or winds up in prison (or is cleared entirely), major damage is done.

Because, however he’s involved …

Snatching money from the poor — in Mississippi, which makes you want to cry – is almost as cruel and cavalier as a big-time hero can get.

And I made money from a book about this man.

I’m sorry, but …

It’s a tough thought to shake right now.

Email: [email protected]

Steve Cameron’s “Cheap Seats” columns appear in The Press on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Steve suggests you take his opinions in the spirit of a Jimmy Buffett song: “Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On.”