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In this month's magazine of Men's Journal, they break down the "25 Toughest Guys in America." Quarterback Brett Favre of the Green Bay Packers was voted number one, but UFC Fighter Matt Hughes was ranked as #3. Here is the article with the Top 3.
The 25 Toughest Guys in America by Men's Journal
What makes a tough guy? How about perseverance, fearlessness, a high threshold for pain? And how about a little modesty, too? we asked more than 100 experts in more than a dozen fields. Here's who made the final cut.
1. BRETT FAVRE
Quarterback • 34 • Green Bay, Wisconsin
that brett favre has become one of the most universally liked guys in public life has a lot to do with the passion he brings to every game he plays, every play he makes. This fact is lost on him; in his world that's just what athletes are supposed to do. As he puts it: "I go through life saying, What can I do on the football field to make people say, 'Now, that guy's good. Not just because he can throw touchdown passes but because he's a great leader, he busted his ass, he was always there, you could always depend on him, he was tough'?"
In 12 seasons with the Green Bay Packers, Favre has known as much pain and glory as any athlete of his generation. So when he found himself living out a personal tragedy in front of the entire nation in December -- his father, Big Irv, had died unexpectedly of a heart attack a little more than 24 hours before Green Bay was to play a critical Monday night game in Oakland's notorious "Black Hole" -- was anybody surprised that he decided that not playing wasn't an option? Was it any surprise that he ended up putting on the single best performance of the year, a game that would pass immediately into legend? In a word, no.
Irv Favre, old "Hammerhead," a high school football and baseball coach and the son of a full-blooded Choctaw Indian, taught his son that commitment to one's teammates should never waver, no matter the circumstances. The son listened. Largely because Favre has started more than 200 games in a row, the Packers have won a Super Bowl and never had a losing season with him. What's almost as amazing is that, despite all the battle wounds he has suffered, Favre has had to leave only four games due to injury. This season he played 12 games with a fractured thumb on his throwing hand.
Accompany Favre to the rollicking family home in Kiln, Mississippi, not far from the Gulf of Mexico, and he will lead you to the spot where the legend really began -- and almost ended. It was July 14, 1990, and the 20-year-old Brett was gearing up for his senior season at Southern Miss by drinking all morning with some buddies out at Ship Island. On the way back, Favre says, he fells asleep at the wheel and flipped his car into the woods along a blacktop road not far from home. A vertebra was broken, and, worse, doctors told him his intestinal tract wasn't working right. On August 7 they operated and removed 30 inches of it. On September 8, having lost about 25 pounds, Favre quarterbacked Southern Miss to a spectacular 27-24 upset of Alabama. 'Bama coach Gene Stallings said the wraithlike Favre "looked like a damn scarecrow. You can call it a miracle or a legend or anything you want to. I just know on that day Brett Favre was bigger than life."
Two years later, after a rookie season in Atlanta during which he showed up drunk for practice two or three times, Favre was unceremoniously traded to Green Bay for a first-round draft pick. It didn't take long for him to endear himself to the Packers. Out one night with some offensive linemen, Favre noticed a big lunk lipping off to veteran guard Rich Moran. "Next thing I know Brett grabbed the guy by the neck," Moran says. "Right there I kind of took a liking to him."
On the field, though, he was inconsistent in those early years. In one game the bad Brett would be there, throwing interceptions and making poor decisions. In another the good Brett would make something out of nothing and the Packers would beat a much better team.
But always the tough Brett was there. They still talk about the Bears game at Lambeau Field in '95, when Favre missed practice all week with a grotesquely swollen ankle, then threw five touchdowns. Perhaps the most crushing shot Favre ever took was delivered by Bucs defensive end Regan Upshaw from the blind side on a bootleg gone haywire in 1998. It almost broke Favre's jaw, but guess who was the first one up? "It was a great hit," Favre said later, "but you can't ever let them see any weakness." The darkest period of his career came around the time Favre had a seizure following ankle surgery just after the '95 season. He was 26, the leader of a talent-laden team bound for back-to-back Super Bowls, and he had fallen into an addiction to the painkiller Vicodin. It wouldn't have been hard for everything to unravel at this point, but Big Irv didn't raise the kind of guy who would let that happen. Favre owned up to his demons at a memorable press conference, then spent 45 days at a treatment center in Topeka, Kansas. He got off Vicodin and eventually (after a 1999 ultimatum from his wife Deanna) quit partying.
The fortunes of his team have ebbed and flowed over the years, but Favre keeps playing with a kind of adolescent joy. Two years ago Lions cornerback Todd Lyght was livid after Marco Rivera jumped over a pile and nailed him late. Favre, ever the peacemaker, playfully slapped Lyght on the side of the helmet, and everything was cool again. When enormous Baltimore Ravens nose tackle Sam Adams chased him halfway across the field for a sack in 2001, there was Favre embracing Adams after the play as if to say, "You earned that one, big fella." Other things never change, either, like Favre's 35-1 record at home when the temperature is 34 degrees or below, or his delight when the opportunity to block someone presents itself.
Green Bay may have lost in the playoffs, but watching Favre that day in Oakland last December made the whole season worthwhile. Irv Favre raised his son to love football and play as hard as he could every down. And so, as on every other game day in his career, that's precisely what he did. --Bob McGinn
2 MICHAEL WEISSKOPF
Journalist • 57 • Washington, D.C.
WHAT MAKES HIM TOUGH When you work in a war zone where terror strikes claim fresh lives daily, courage is a necessity. Either you have it or you're 6,000 miles away, safe at home. Time senior correspondent Michael Weisskopf has it. On December 10 in Baghdad, an insurgent lobbed a hissing grenade into the back of an open-air army patrol Humvee Weisskopf was riding in with a photographer and four soldiers from the 1st Armored Division. Rather than diving for cover or freezing up, Weisskopf grabbed it and volleyed it away just as it exploded -- taking his right hand with it but saving the lives of everyone in the vehicle. "All I did was simply react," he says now, almost dismissively. "There was no other option in my mind." Of course, that's just what tough guys do.
EYEWITNESS "Michael chooses to take courageous leaps of journalistic faith in the corridors of power in Washington," says Time's managing editor, Jim Kelly, "so when he ended up in a back-alley Baghdad neighborhood with a grenade in his hand it was very much in keeping with his career."
WHAT'S NEXT Back to work. "I'm just going to get back on the bicycle," he says. "I grew up on the South Side of Chicago -- not many neighborhoods bother me."
3 MATT HUGHES
Ultimate Fighter • 30 • Hillsboro, Illinois
WHAT MAKES HIM TOUGH Matt Hughes was destined for fighting glory. He was a two-time Illinois state high school champion, a two-time junior college All-American, and a two-time NCAA All-American wrestler. Though he stands only five-foot-nine and weighs only 170 pounds, the five-time defending Ultimate Fighting Championship welterweight world champion is making it nearly impossible for UFC fight coordinator Joe Silva to do his job. "I don't want him fighting people that aren't real challenges," says Silva. "It's not that he'd just win -- he'd freakin' wreck them. Without a doubt he's the toughest fighter pound for pound in this sport." To win his belt at UFC 34, Hughes knocked former world champ Carlos Newton unconscious after slamming him against the mat. For his fifth defense, against Frank Trigg, Hughes jumped like a tree monkey onto Trigg's back, choking him until Trigg fell over backward and tapped out so the referee would stop the fight. When Hughes isn't training for a fight, he still manages to put in 15-hour days on the family farm he grew up on, running the combine and tilling corn fields. But when he is training, he's all business. A month out from a match he's been known to do sets of 110 leg presses with 450 pounds on the rack, sprint quarter-mile hills 14 times in a row with barely a rest, and fight fresh fighters one after another for five straight rounds.
EYEWITNESS "The last six guys he's fought have all been killers, with very good credentials, and he's just crushed them," says Joe Silva. "He beats them up badly."
WHAT'S NEXT Hughes is set to defend his title again in June, but, he says, "If there was any money on the farm, I'd give up fighting and go back home right now."
The 25 Toughest Guys in America by Men's Journal
What makes a tough guy? How about perseverance, fearlessness, a high threshold for pain? And how about a little modesty, too? we asked more than 100 experts in more than a dozen fields. Here's who made the final cut.
1. BRETT FAVRE
Quarterback • 34 • Green Bay, Wisconsin
that brett favre has become one of the most universally liked guys in public life has a lot to do with the passion he brings to every game he plays, every play he makes. This fact is lost on him; in his world that's just what athletes are supposed to do. As he puts it: "I go through life saying, What can I do on the football field to make people say, 'Now, that guy's good. Not just because he can throw touchdown passes but because he's a great leader, he busted his ass, he was always there, you could always depend on him, he was tough'?"
In 12 seasons with the Green Bay Packers, Favre has known as much pain and glory as any athlete of his generation. So when he found himself living out a personal tragedy in front of the entire nation in December -- his father, Big Irv, had died unexpectedly of a heart attack a little more than 24 hours before Green Bay was to play a critical Monday night game in Oakland's notorious "Black Hole" -- was anybody surprised that he decided that not playing wasn't an option? Was it any surprise that he ended up putting on the single best performance of the year, a game that would pass immediately into legend? In a word, no.
Irv Favre, old "Hammerhead," a high school football and baseball coach and the son of a full-blooded Choctaw Indian, taught his son that commitment to one's teammates should never waver, no matter the circumstances. The son listened. Largely because Favre has started more than 200 games in a row, the Packers have won a Super Bowl and never had a losing season with him. What's almost as amazing is that, despite all the battle wounds he has suffered, Favre has had to leave only four games due to injury. This season he played 12 games with a fractured thumb on his throwing hand.
Accompany Favre to the rollicking family home in Kiln, Mississippi, not far from the Gulf of Mexico, and he will lead you to the spot where the legend really began -- and almost ended. It was July 14, 1990, and the 20-year-old Brett was gearing up for his senior season at Southern Miss by drinking all morning with some buddies out at Ship Island. On the way back, Favre says, he fells asleep at the wheel and flipped his car into the woods along a blacktop road not far from home. A vertebra was broken, and, worse, doctors told him his intestinal tract wasn't working right. On August 7 they operated and removed 30 inches of it. On September 8, having lost about 25 pounds, Favre quarterbacked Southern Miss to a spectacular 27-24 upset of Alabama. 'Bama coach Gene Stallings said the wraithlike Favre "looked like a damn scarecrow. You can call it a miracle or a legend or anything you want to. I just know on that day Brett Favre was bigger than life."
Two years later, after a rookie season in Atlanta during which he showed up drunk for practice two or three times, Favre was unceremoniously traded to Green Bay for a first-round draft pick. It didn't take long for him to endear himself to the Packers. Out one night with some offensive linemen, Favre noticed a big lunk lipping off to veteran guard Rich Moran. "Next thing I know Brett grabbed the guy by the neck," Moran says. "Right there I kind of took a liking to him."
On the field, though, he was inconsistent in those early years. In one game the bad Brett would be there, throwing interceptions and making poor decisions. In another the good Brett would make something out of nothing and the Packers would beat a much better team.
But always the tough Brett was there. They still talk about the Bears game at Lambeau Field in '95, when Favre missed practice all week with a grotesquely swollen ankle, then threw five touchdowns. Perhaps the most crushing shot Favre ever took was delivered by Bucs defensive end Regan Upshaw from the blind side on a bootleg gone haywire in 1998. It almost broke Favre's jaw, but guess who was the first one up? "It was a great hit," Favre said later, "but you can't ever let them see any weakness." The darkest period of his career came around the time Favre had a seizure following ankle surgery just after the '95 season. He was 26, the leader of a talent-laden team bound for back-to-back Super Bowls, and he had fallen into an addiction to the painkiller Vicodin. It wouldn't have been hard for everything to unravel at this point, but Big Irv didn't raise the kind of guy who would let that happen. Favre owned up to his demons at a memorable press conference, then spent 45 days at a treatment center in Topeka, Kansas. He got off Vicodin and eventually (after a 1999 ultimatum from his wife Deanna) quit partying.
The fortunes of his team have ebbed and flowed over the years, but Favre keeps playing with a kind of adolescent joy. Two years ago Lions cornerback Todd Lyght was livid after Marco Rivera jumped over a pile and nailed him late. Favre, ever the peacemaker, playfully slapped Lyght on the side of the helmet, and everything was cool again. When enormous Baltimore Ravens nose tackle Sam Adams chased him halfway across the field for a sack in 2001, there was Favre embracing Adams after the play as if to say, "You earned that one, big fella." Other things never change, either, like Favre's 35-1 record at home when the temperature is 34 degrees or below, or his delight when the opportunity to block someone presents itself.
Green Bay may have lost in the playoffs, but watching Favre that day in Oakland last December made the whole season worthwhile. Irv Favre raised his son to love football and play as hard as he could every down. And so, as on every other game day in his career, that's precisely what he did. --Bob McGinn
2 MICHAEL WEISSKOPF
Journalist • 57 • Washington, D.C.
WHAT MAKES HIM TOUGH When you work in a war zone where terror strikes claim fresh lives daily, courage is a necessity. Either you have it or you're 6,000 miles away, safe at home. Time senior correspondent Michael Weisskopf has it. On December 10 in Baghdad, an insurgent lobbed a hissing grenade into the back of an open-air army patrol Humvee Weisskopf was riding in with a photographer and four soldiers from the 1st Armored Division. Rather than diving for cover or freezing up, Weisskopf grabbed it and volleyed it away just as it exploded -- taking his right hand with it but saving the lives of everyone in the vehicle. "All I did was simply react," he says now, almost dismissively. "There was no other option in my mind." Of course, that's just what tough guys do.
EYEWITNESS "Michael chooses to take courageous leaps of journalistic faith in the corridors of power in Washington," says Time's managing editor, Jim Kelly, "so when he ended up in a back-alley Baghdad neighborhood with a grenade in his hand it was very much in keeping with his career."
WHAT'S NEXT Back to work. "I'm just going to get back on the bicycle," he says. "I grew up on the South Side of Chicago -- not many neighborhoods bother me."
3 MATT HUGHES
Ultimate Fighter • 30 • Hillsboro, Illinois
WHAT MAKES HIM TOUGH Matt Hughes was destined for fighting glory. He was a two-time Illinois state high school champion, a two-time junior college All-American, and a two-time NCAA All-American wrestler. Though he stands only five-foot-nine and weighs only 170 pounds, the five-time defending Ultimate Fighting Championship welterweight world champion is making it nearly impossible for UFC fight coordinator Joe Silva to do his job. "I don't want him fighting people that aren't real challenges," says Silva. "It's not that he'd just win -- he'd freakin' wreck them. Without a doubt he's the toughest fighter pound for pound in this sport." To win his belt at UFC 34, Hughes knocked former world champ Carlos Newton unconscious after slamming him against the mat. For his fifth defense, against Frank Trigg, Hughes jumped like a tree monkey onto Trigg's back, choking him until Trigg fell over backward and tapped out so the referee would stop the fight. When Hughes isn't training for a fight, he still manages to put in 15-hour days on the family farm he grew up on, running the combine and tilling corn fields. But when he is training, he's all business. A month out from a match he's been known to do sets of 110 leg presses with 450 pounds on the rack, sprint quarter-mile hills 14 times in a row with barely a rest, and fight fresh fighters one after another for five straight rounds.
EYEWITNESS "The last six guys he's fought have all been killers, with very good credentials, and he's just crushed them," says Joe Silva. "He beats them up badly."
WHAT'S NEXT Hughes is set to defend his title again in June, but, he says, "If there was any money on the farm, I'd give up fighting and go back home right now."
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