Jump to content

Report: Rodgers Wants Out of Green Bay


Recommended Posts

Posted (edited)
43 minutes ago, Mr Bad Example said:

He can still claim it if we switch from peak BAC to a rolling 3-day average. 

It's too early for you bastards to already make me want to start. 

I just got to get through this damn week. First one where I don't work the weekend at all. 7 weeks of 50ish hours of work plus drinks every day about kills a man.

Edited by Norm
Link to post
Share on other sites
33 minutes ago, gopackgo972 said:

This whole time I thought Aaron was Samwise to my Frodo, but he’s just Boromir. 

I've read a lot of ignorant bull**** in this thread, and I've let a lot of it slide because there's no point in arguing against dug-in dumbassery. But I am not going to sit here and listen to anybody slander Boromir. Boromir is a god damn legend. 

Think about the absolute bull**** that the state of the world was in at the start of this trilogy. Sauron was building his massive army in Mordor, and playing his shadow games, and nobody was doing anything about it. The dwarves of Moria were dead and the other powerful dwarf nations were afraid to stick their head out of the ground. The elves were in the middle of leaving Middle Earth. Rohan had collapsed under Wormtongue's poisoning of Theoden and the Eorlingas were a raving band of marauders, not an army. The leader of the wizards had betrayed the world. The only nation still fighting Sauron's hordes was Gondor, mostly because they were closest to Mordor and immediately threatened to be overrun.

The forces of Gondor were holding the darkness at bay, mostly because Captain Boromir was a ******* stud and leading the defense of Osgiliath, Minis Tirith, and the rest of the nation. Lord knows it wasn't ******* Steward Denethor keeping the nation together. 

Let's take a quick detour to talk about Denethor. What else is there to say about this piece of work? Boromir and Faramir's mother died when they were 10 and Denethor never pulled out of his spiral. He was driven to madness by jealousy and a loss of hope. He was only the Steward and not the king, like he felt he deserved. And more importantly, Gondor was going to fall. All of their allies against the darkness had abandoned them. There would be no great alliance of men and elves to once again stand against the darkness. Isildur's bloodline had abandoned the country. The only question of their being overrun by the orc hordes was when. He was a bitter and hateful man, and his only solace in the world was Boromir, who was carrying the defenses of the nation on his back. He didn't view Faramir the same way. In fact he hated Faramir most of all, why couldn't Faramir, quiet and studious, be more like Boromir? So Boromir did all he could to shelter his younger brother from his father's abuses. Heavy ****.

But that same sense of helplessness that gripped Denethor also had to affect Boromir. How could it not? How many fellow soldiers of Gondor had to have fallen in his years of service in a defense of a nation that he knew was soon to be doomed? He was fighting a battle that could never be won, and he fought it for years and years.

And then the Council of the Ring was called. Rather than send wise and patient Faramir, Denethor sends the son he was most proud of. Boromir is pulled away from the defenses of the nation and sent to Rivendell. While in Rivendell, who does he run into but Aragorn, the man who abandoned Gondor, the one who should be sitting on the throne that so vexes his father, the heir of Isildur, hiding amongst the elves rather than leading his nation. 

In the books it isn't like in the movies. The blood of the first men runs in Aragorn's veins. He's technically a man, but he's 9 feet tall, is inhumanely handsome and graceful, is popular amongst the elves, has already lived for many years, and just saved the world by protecting the ring bearer from the black riders. How can you not feel second best next to that guy?

So Frodo bounces back up and the council meets. And they come up with a plan that sounds absolutely pants-on-head idiotic. We're going to take the ring to Mordor and destroy it. And we're going to do it with 9 people. As Boromir says "Not with all the armies in Middle Earth could you do this." And he's right. This is an impossible task, as he knows better than anyone because he's the one who's been fighting against Mordor for the last decade. He knows storming the Black Gate is impossible. And it's not like Gandalf or Elrond say, "actually, we know a secret way into Mordor," cause they don't. They get that it's impossible but they have to try.

Boromir's basically arguing, it can't be that much more impossible that all the magic of elves and wizards can't break the magic of the ring, than it is to conquer Mordor. He's wrong, but he doesn't know that. 

So he signs on for the quest, even knowing it's impossible, because that's what heroes do. And he does his best. He carries the hobbits up the snowy peaks of Cadahras. He tries to teach them to fight. He defends them in Moria. He argues with Aragorn to give them a moment to grieve. He's trying. 

But the ring feeds on his hopelessness. Gandalf is dead, and with him went even the slightest prayer they had. 4 hobbits, 2 men, an elf, and a dwarf, against the entirety of Sauron's armies. It drives him to madness. That's what the ring does, but it isn't like the Ring gets to him by promising him that he'll rule the world. It promises him that with it Gondor would be strong enough to defend itself against Mordor and his people wouldn't be slaughtered and that Frodo trying to destroy the ring would just deliver it to Sauron sooner. So he does what he thought was right, he tries to take it. 

He fails and as soon as he's free of the rings influence he realizes his mistake and despairs at what he's done. He screams his apology to the empty forest, and then he gets up and tries to make up for it. He defends Merri and Pippen and dies defending them. Even as he's laying there dying and Aragorn find him he's apologizing, and then he gives the speech that inspires Aragorn to embrace his identity as King. That's a HUGE turning point as Aragorn goes from mostly-elf Ranger tagging along after Gandalf to a guy who's gonna lead the show. 

He dies before he sees his dream completed, Gondor restored to it's former glory and free from the shadow of Sauron. But his words put Aragorn on the path to making it a reality. His training the hobbits eventually leads to Eowyn killing the head Nazgul after Merry stabs it with the barrowblade, and even the rescue of the shire from Sauroman when the 4 hobbits return home. (and indirectly the saving of the world as it fractured the fellowship and sent Aragorn down the path towards Rohan and eventually Gondor, and sent Frodo towards Gollum, the only one who knows the secret tunnels into Mordor)

Look, I get it, dudes an easy target. Everybody wants to be Aragorn, and that's fine. Aragorn's awesome. But Aragorn isn't realistic. Boromir is. Failure is a part of life. Hopelessness is a part of life. Apologizing for your mistakes and then attempting to rectify them is a part of life. 

Boromir is a ******* hero. Aaron Rodgers is no Boromir. 

+++ Stolen liberally from below, which is also worth a read+++

I rant through my tears about how much I love Boromir every time I watch Lord of the Rings, which I do about once a year with @captainofthefallen. Every time I watch it, his death means more to me, hits me harder, and I think that’s because the older we get, the more we identify with Boromir.

Here’s the thing. In all honesty, as a kid (I first read LotR when I was eleven, first watched the films at that age as well), I wasn’t too fond of Boromir. Oh I liked him all right, he was fine I suppose, but I didn’t connect with him. I was angry when he tried to take the One Ring from Frodo, and I cried a little at his death because death is sad and I was a kid, but it didn’t devastate me.

Because as a kid? I wanted to be Aragorn. The reluctant king who rises up and does the right thing, always. The guy who gets the amazing (be still my bi heart) Arwen, the Evenstar, fairest of the elves. The guy who literally kicks ***. The man who is noble, honorable, thoughtful, good with his words, humble, knows the burdens of leadership, who stands up and says there will be a day when the courage of men fails, but this is not that day.

I wanted to be the hero.

I noticed this trend among my peers growing up. We all loved Aragorn and wanted to be him. Boromir was sort of dismissed.

But then a funny thing happened, called getting older.

I got older, and I ****ed up.

I got older, and depression hit.

I got older, and the weight of societal expectations, of being an older sibling, of adult responsibilities, of legacy, of family secrets, of family history, all settled on my shoulders.

I got older, and I learned that men are not always honorable, or kind, or humble, or the leaders they should be. And I learned how hard and desperate it is to continue to believe in the strength of men.

I got older, and I learned how temptation comes for us all, in different forms, and how we hurt people without meaning to, and how sometimes for all our regret and tears and apologies, we cannot mend what we broke.

I got older, and I leaned what it is to be forced into a role I didn’t want, to feel I’d hit a dead end, to struggle against those who had different views, to feel like people could look into my heart and see the anger and fear that I tried so hard to hide.

I got older, and I realized: I’m Boromir.

We’re all Boromir.

Tolkien was very deliberate with his characters. They aren’t just characters, flawed and wonderful though they might be. They also each represent something very specific. Aragorn represents the Ideal. The hero that we all can be, the hero that we should strive to be, the vision of mankind as we are supposed to be, if only we can let ourselves shed our hubris and our doubts. Aragorn represents who we should be.

Boromir represents who we are.

Flawed, frustrated, burdened, tempted, struggling, setback, good intentioned, afraid, angry, kindhearted, noble, loyal, and painfully, beautifully human.

Boromir went to the Council of Elrond reluctantly. He shouldn’t have gone. Boromir is a war leader, as we learn after his death. He successfully fought for and defended Gondor from Mordor for years. That’s where he belongs. Faramir is the quiet one, the diplomat, the “wizard’s pupil,” the soft-spoken and patient one. Note that even in the film version, which shows a differently characterized Faramir than in the books (Tolkien heavily based Faramir on himself), Faramir only wants the One Ring in order to give it to his father and win his father’s pride and affection–he doesn’t want it for himself.

If Faramir had been at the Council and Boromir had stayed in Gondor, everything would have gone differently, and possibly for the better.

But the Steward of ****wits aka Boromir and Faramir’s father decides he wants Boromir to go, to represent their family, because Boromir is the son he values and is the “face” of Gondor. So Boromir sets aside what he wants, and he goes. And the whole time he feels out of place, feels like a fish out of water, feels second to Aragorn, feels lost, feels terrified his city will fall while he is gone, feels like the race of Men is being mocked and looked down on as weak.

How many of us as we grow up are stuck like that? We can’t fix our family (although we try), we can’t fix our broken country (although we try), we can’t get rid of the doubts and fears that whisper to us (although we try), and we can’t stop feeling like we’re constantly second best, constantly failing, looked down on, especially the millennial generation.

(Given what’s happening in the world right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tolkien found himself surprisingly similar in outlook and feeling to our generation. But that’s another topic.)

And of course that’s the key. Boromir–darling, frustrated, stuck, fatally flawed Boromir–is so very relatable because he tries. He tries to teach Merry and Pippin to protect themselves and then tries to save them and dies for it. He tries to convince Aragorn (who at that point is more elf than man in his outlook) that there is no reason to give up on his people, their people–and he succeeds in that, although he dies before he gets to see it. He tries to make his father proud. He tries to apologize when he ****s up. He tries and he fails, and he tries and he succeeds. And the most important things he does, the biggest seeds he plants, he never sees them flower.

Like my God, the man’s last words are I failed. I failed you, I failed Frodo, I tried to take the Ring. I’m sorry, I failed. That hits me so goddamn hard in my mid20s and it’ll hit me even harder when I’m older, I’m sure. How many times have we said that to people? “I tried to help him.” “I tried to reach out.” “I tried to apologize.” “I tried to stop them.” “I tried so hard.” I tried, I tried, I tried. For the job, for the friend, for everything, I tried.

And I failed.

I have a laundry list of things I tried and failed at, and God, do they hurt. Sometimes it was something out of my control, sometimes it was my own behavior. And that scene with Boromir, the flawed man, staring up at Aragorn, the ideal hero, and begging him, begging him, “save them, they took the little ones, find Frodo,” begging him for forgiveness, apologizing for his failures?

Talk about a ******* metaphor.

We make our ideals in literature so that we have something to look up to and strive for, for others to strive for. Boromir falls prey to the ring, but Aragorn does not. You did what I could not. Of course Aragorn did. He’s the ideal. And we beg our ideals to be better so they can show us the way and hopefully, maybe, someday, we can be like them.

I had so many heroes growing up, real and literary. Sara from A Little Princess. Aragorn. Lucy from Narnia. Nancy Drew. Harry Potter. And so many times I would look at myself in the mirror and cry because I knew, I knew if I stood in front of them they would be disappointed in me. I knew I wasn’t being the person I could be. I tried, I failed, I tried, I failed, but my God I swear, I tried.

As a kid or even a teenager, we still see mainly who we want to be. Our ideal. And I hope that we never lose sight of that. I love Aragorn and my God am I going to keep trying to be like him, and like all of my other literary heroes. We need those heroes, we need them so badly, and the darker the world gets the brighter we have to make them shine.

As an adult, though–as an adult, we start to see not only who we want to be, but who we are, and who we could’ve been, and how we failed to be, and the paths not taken and the paths that were lost. And that’s important too. Because Boromir died convinced he was a failure. Convinced he was, truly, the weakness we find in men.

And he was… but he wasn’t.

Without Boromir, Aragorn wouldn’t know what happened to Merry and Pippin or where they went. Without Boromir, Aragorn would’ve had no hope in the race of men. Without Boromir, who would have carried the hobbits up the cold mountain, or taught them how to fight, or said give them a moment, for pity’s sake! Who would have defended Gondor for so long, or loved his brother with a ferocity that Denethor’s abuse couldn’t knock loose, and inspired that brother to keep fighting even as the light faded and the night grew cold and long?

Aragorn carries Boromir’s bracers throughout the rest of the trilogy, right up to his coronation, where he is still wearing them as he is made King. Because Boromir might not have seen it–we might not see it–but we tried and we failed but we didn’t fail at everything. Lives are made brighter for our presence. The world is better for our gifts and our convictions. And no fight, even a fight lost, is done in vain.

The remains of the Fellowship ride to Gondor not just because it’s the Right Thing to Do, but because it is the city of their fallen brother, it’s Boromir’s home, the home that above all he gave everything to defend. Boromir doesn’t want the Ring for power, he wants it so his home will be safe, his family will be safe, and God who can’t relate to that, as we grow older and we see our families and friends attacked and scarred, as we have children and want them out of harm’s way. Who wouldn’t be tempted to seize the chance to keep them safe?

I see so much of myself in Boromir. And I take hope. I take inspiration. I cheer through my tears as he is hit again and again with arrows and each time he gets back up on his feet and grits his teeth and you can see him thinking not today. As a child I thought Boromir was selfish but as an adult I hear him use his last breath to apologize to Aragorn and call him his brother and his king and I see he’s more selfless than he ever gave himself credit for being. Boromir sees only his faults, but we can see what he doesn’t, we see his positive impact and we see his virtues, too.

Because as an adult I’ve failed, and I want to believe that like Boromir, I’ve also succeeded, I’ve also been more than just my faults–even if I can’t see that yet.

Aragorn is who we should be. But Boromir is who we are.

And my God, we should be proud of that. Because Boromir is a damn good person to be.

  • Like 15
Link to post
Share on other sites

I'm going to leave out Van Pelt because coaching staff would have been MM's call and he's long gone.

Letting Nelson go was the right football decision. I understand Rodgers probably doesn't like it on a personal level but he's wrong there.

Kumerow was an end of roster guy, and there was obviously a difference of opinion there. At the very least it's irrelevant. He wouldn't have made the offense any better or worse than it was.

On the other end, I remember him advocating for both Jimmy Graham and Martellus Bennett. Both of whom were different levels of disappointing.

I find it hard to believe Rodgers didn't voice his opinions, but it really sounds like he's mad that he didn't get his way.

Link to post
Share on other sites
1 hour ago, 15412 said:

"We will take your advice under consideration" but it must be made clear in no way does it carry weight."

That covered it.  Communication always.  Player control never.

If there's anything people with narcissistic tendencies like more than not being consulted, it's being consulted and then ignored. 

  • Like 1
Link to post
Share on other sites
5 minutes ago, AlexGreen#20 said:

I've read a lot of ignorant bull**** in this thread, and I've let a lot of it slide because there's no point in arguing against dug-in dumbassery. But I am not going to sit here and listen to anybody slander Boromir. Boromir is a god damn legend.......

[the snippiest of all snips]

...Sir, this is a Wendy’s....

  • Like 4
Link to post
Share on other sites
7 minutes ago, TransientTexan said:

...Sir, this is a Wendy’s....

I read the whole thing and appreciate my favourite (or second fav) series of all time more because of it

  • Like 1
Link to post
Share on other sites
16 minutes ago, AlexGreen#20 said:

I've read a lot of ignorant bull**** in this thread, and I've let a lot of it slide because there's no point in arguing against dug-in dumbassery. But I am not going to sit here and listen to anybody slander Boromir. Boromir is a god damn legend. 

Think about the absolute bull**** that the state of the world was in at the start of this trilogy. Sauron was building his massive army in Mordor, and playing his shadow games, and nobody was doing anything about it. The dwarves of Moria were dead and the other powerful dwarf nations were afraid to stick their head out of the ground. The elves were in the middle of leaving Middle Earth. Rohan had collapsed under Wormtongue's poisoning of Theoden and the Eorlingas were a raving band of marauders, not an army. The leader of the wizards had betrayed the world. The only nation still fighting Sauron's hordes was Gondor, mostly because they were closest to Mordor and immediately threatened to be overrun.

The forces of Gondor were holding the darkness at bay, mostly because Captain Boromir was a ******* stud and leading the defense of Osgiliath, Minis Tirith, and the rest of the nation. Lord knows it wasn't ******* Steward Denethor keeping the nation together. 

Let's take a quick detour to talk about Denethor. What else is there to say about this piece of work? Boromir and Faramir's mother died when they were 10 and Denethor never pulled out of his spiral. He was driven to madness by jealousy and a loss of hope. He was only the Steward and not the king, like he felt he deserved. And more importantly, Gondor was going to fall. All of their allies against the darkness had abandoned them. There would be no great alliance of men and elves to once again stand against the darkness. Isildur's bloodline had abandoned the country. The only question of their being overrun by the orc hordes was when. He was a bitter and hateful man, and his only solace in the world was Boromir, who was carrying the defenses of the nation on his back. He didn't view Faramir the same way. In fact he hated Faramir most of all, why couldn't Faramir, quiet and studious, be more like Boromir? So Boromir did all he could to shelter his younger brother from his father's abuses. Heavy ****.

But that same sense of helplessness that gripped Denethor also had to affect Boromir. How could it not? How many fellow soldiers of Gondor had to have fallen in his years of service in a defense of a nation that he knew was soon to be doomed? He was fighting a battle that could never be won, and he fought it for years and years.

And then the Council of the Ring was called. Rather than send wise and patient Faramir, Denethor sends the son he was most proud of. Boromir is pulled away from the defenses of the nation and sent to Rivendell. While in Rivendell, who does he run into but Aragorn, the man who abandoned Gondor, the one who should be sitting on the throne that so vexes his father, the heir of Isildur, hiding amongst the elves rather than leading his nation. 

In the books it isn't like in the movies. The blood of the first men runs in Aragorn's veins. He's technically a man, but he's 9 feet tall, is inhumanely handsome and graceful, is popular amongst the elves, has already lived for many years, and just saved the world by protecting the ring bearer from the black riders. How can you not feel second best next to that guy?

So Frodo bounces back up and the council meets. And they come up with a plan that sounds absolutely pants-on-head idiotic. We're going to take the ring to Mordor and destroy it. And we're going to do it with 9 people. As Boromir says "Not with all the armies in Middle Earth could you do this." And he's right. This is an impossible task, as he knows better than anyone because he's the one who's been fighting against Mordor for the last decade. He knows storming the Black Gate is impossible. And it's not like Gandalf or Elrond say, "actually, we know a secret way into Mordor," cause they don't. They get that it's impossible but they have to try.

Boromir's basically arguing, it can't be that much more impossible that all the magic of elves and wizards can't break the magic of the ring, than it is to conquer Mordor. He's wrong, but he doesn't know that. 

So he signs on for the quest, even knowing it's impossible, because that's what heroes do. And he does his best. He carries the hobbits up the snowy peaks of Cadahras. He tries to teach them to fight. He defends them in Moria. He argues with Aragorn to give them a moment to grieve. He's trying. 

But the ring feeds on his hopelessness. Gandalf is dead, and with him went even the slightest prayer they had. 4 hobbits, 2 men, an elf, and a dwarf, against the entirety of Sauron's armies. It drives him to madness. That's what the ring does, but it isn't like the Ring gets to him by promising him that he'll rule the world. It promises him that with it Gondor would be strong enough to defend itself against Mordor and his people wouldn't be slaughtered and that Frodo trying to destroy the ring would just deliver it to Sauron sooner. So he does what he thought was right, he tries to take it. 

He fails and as soon as he's free of the rings influence he realizes his mistake and despairs at what he's done. He screams his apology to the empty forest, and then he gets up and tries to make up for it. He defends Merri and Pippen and dies defending them. Even as he's laying there dying and Aragorn find him he's apologizing, and then he gives the speech that inspires Aragorn to embrace his identity as King. That's a HUGE turning point as Aragorn goes from mostly-elf Ranger tagging along after Gandalf to a guy who's gonna lead the show. 

He dies before he sees his dream completed, Gondor restored to it's former glory and free from the shadow of Sauron. But his words put Aragorn on the path to making it a reality. His training the hobbits eventually leads to Eowyn killing the head Nazgul after Merry stabs it with the barrowblade, and even the rescue of the shire from Sauroman when the 4 hobbits return home. (and indirectly the saving of the world as it fractured the fellowship and sent Aragorn down the path towards Rohan and eventually Gondor, and sent Frodo towards Gollum, the only one who knows the secret tunnels into Mordor)

Look, I get it, dudes an easy target. Everybody wants to be Aragorn, and that's fine. Aragorn's awesome. But Aragorn isn't realistic. Boromir is. Failure is a part of life. Hopelessness is a part of life. Apologizing for your mistakes and then attempting to rectify them is a part of life. 

Boromir is a ******* hero. Aaron Rodgers is no Boromir. 

+++ Stolen liberally from below, which is also worth a read+++

I rant through my tears about how much I love Boromir every time I watch Lord of the Rings, which I do about once a year with @captainofthefallen. Every time I watch it, his death means more to me, hits me harder, and I think that’s because the older we get, the more we identify with Boromir.

Here’s the thing. In all honesty, as a kid (I first read LotR when I was eleven, first watched the films at that age as well), I wasn’t too fond of Boromir. Oh I liked him all right, he was fine I suppose, but I didn’t connect with him. I was angry when he tried to take the One Ring from Frodo, and I cried a little at his death because death is sad and I was a kid, but it didn’t devastate me.

Because as a kid? I wanted to be Aragorn. The reluctant king who rises up and does the right thing, always. The guy who gets the amazing (be still my bi heart) Arwen, the Evenstar, fairest of the elves. The guy who literally kicks ***. The man who is noble, honorable, thoughtful, good with his words, humble, knows the burdens of leadership, who stands up and says there will be a day when the courage of men fails, but this is not that day.

I wanted to be the hero.

I noticed this trend among my peers growing up. We all loved Aragorn and wanted to be him. Boromir was sort of dismissed.

But then a funny thing happened, called getting older.

I got older, and I ****ed up.

I got older, and depression hit.

I got older, and the weight of societal expectations, of being an older sibling, of adult responsibilities, of legacy, of family secrets, of family history, all settled on my shoulders.

I got older, and I learned that men are not always honorable, or kind, or humble, or the leaders they should be. And I learned how hard and desperate it is to continue to believe in the strength of men.

I got older, and I learned how temptation comes for us all, in different forms, and how we hurt people without meaning to, and how sometimes for all our regret and tears and apologies, we cannot mend what we broke.

I got older, and I leaned what it is to be forced into a role I didn’t want, to feel I’d hit a dead end, to struggle against those who had different views, to feel like people could look into my heart and see the anger and fear that I tried so hard to hide.

I got older, and I realized: I’m Boromir.

We’re all Boromir.

Tolkien was very deliberate with his characters. They aren’t just characters, flawed and wonderful though they might be. They also each represent something very specific. Aragorn represents the Ideal. The hero that we all can be, the hero that we should strive to be, the vision of mankind as we are supposed to be, if only we can let ourselves shed our hubris and our doubts. Aragorn represents who we should be.

Boromir represents who we are.

Flawed, frustrated, burdened, tempted, struggling, setback, good intentioned, afraid, angry, kindhearted, noble, loyal, and painfully, beautifully human.

Boromir went to the Council of Elrond reluctantly. He shouldn’t have gone. Boromir is a war leader, as we learn after his death. He successfully fought for and defended Gondor from Mordor for years. That’s where he belongs. Faramir is the quiet one, the diplomat, the “wizard’s pupil,” the soft-spoken and patient one. Note that even in the film version, which shows a differently characterized Faramir than in the books (Tolkien heavily based Faramir on himself), Faramir only wants the One Ring in order to give it to his father and win his father’s pride and affection–he doesn’t want it for himself.

If Faramir had been at the Council and Boromir had stayed in Gondor, everything would have gone differently, and possibly for the better.

But the Steward of ****wits aka Boromir and Faramir’s father decides he wants Boromir to go, to represent their family, because Boromir is the son he values and is the “face” of Gondor. So Boromir sets aside what he wants, and he goes. And the whole time he feels out of place, feels like a fish out of water, feels second to Aragorn, feels lost, feels terrified his city will fall while he is gone, feels like the race of Men is being mocked and looked down on as weak.

How many of us as we grow up are stuck like that? We can’t fix our family (although we try), we can’t fix our broken country (although we try), we can’t get rid of the doubts and fears that whisper to us (although we try), and we can’t stop feeling like we’re constantly second best, constantly failing, looked down on, especially the millennial generation.

(Given what’s happening in the world right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tolkien found himself surprisingly similar in outlook and feeling to our generation. But that’s another topic.)

And of course that’s the key. Boromir–darling, frustrated, stuck, fatally flawed Boromir–is so very relatable because he tries. He tries to teach Merry and Pippin to protect themselves and then tries to save them and dies for it. He tries to convince Aragorn (who at that point is more elf than man in his outlook) that there is no reason to give up on his people, their people–and he succeeds in that, although he dies before he gets to see it. He tries to make his father proud. He tries to apologize when he ****s up. He tries and he fails, and he tries and he succeeds. And the most important things he does, the biggest seeds he plants, he never sees them flower.

Like my God, the man’s last words are I failed. I failed you, I failed Frodo, I tried to take the Ring. I’m sorry, I failed. That hits me so goddamn hard in my mid20s and it’ll hit me even harder when I’m older, I’m sure. How many times have we said that to people? “I tried to help him.” “I tried to reach out.” “I tried to apologize.” “I tried to stop them.” “I tried so hard.” I tried, I tried, I tried. For the job, for the friend, for everything, I tried.

And I failed.

I have a laundry list of things I tried and failed at, and God, do they hurt. Sometimes it was something out of my control, sometimes it was my own behavior. And that scene with Boromir, the flawed man, staring up at Aragorn, the ideal hero, and begging him, begging him, “save them, they took the little ones, find Frodo,” begging him for forgiveness, apologizing for his failures?

Talk about a ******* metaphor.

We make our ideals in literature so that we have something to look up to and strive for, for others to strive for. Boromir falls prey to the ring, but Aragorn does not. You did what I could not. Of course Aragorn did. He’s the ideal. And we beg our ideals to be better so they can show us the way and hopefully, maybe, someday, we can be like them.

I had so many heroes growing up, real and literary. Sara from A Little Princess. Aragorn. Lucy from Narnia. Nancy Drew. Harry Potter. And so many times I would look at myself in the mirror and cry because I knew, I knew if I stood in front of them they would be disappointed in me. I knew I wasn’t being the person I could be. I tried, I failed, I tried, I failed, but my God I swear, I tried.

As a kid or even a teenager, we still see mainly who we want to be. Our ideal. And I hope that we never lose sight of that. I love Aragorn and my God am I going to keep trying to be like him, and like all of my other literary heroes. We need those heroes, we need them so badly, and the darker the world gets the brighter we have to make them shine.

As an adult, though–as an adult, we start to see not only who we want to be, but who we are, and who we could’ve been, and how we failed to be, and the paths not taken and the paths that were lost. And that’s important too. Because Boromir died convinced he was a failure. Convinced he was, truly, the weakness we find in men.

And he was… but he wasn’t.

Without Boromir, Aragorn wouldn’t know what happened to Merry and Pippin or where they went. Without Boromir, Aragorn would’ve had no hope in the race of men. Without Boromir, who would have carried the hobbits up the cold mountain, or taught them how to fight, or said give them a moment, for pity’s sake! Who would have defended Gondor for so long, or loved his brother with a ferocity that Denethor’s abuse couldn’t knock loose, and inspired that brother to keep fighting even as the light faded and the night grew cold and long?

Aragorn carries Boromir’s bracers throughout the rest of the trilogy, right up to his coronation, where he is still wearing them as he is made King. Because Boromir might not have seen it–we might not see it–but we tried and we failed but we didn’t fail at everything. Lives are made brighter for our presence. The world is better for our gifts and our convictions. And no fight, even a fight lost, is done in vain.

The remains of the Fellowship ride to Gondor not just because it’s the Right Thing to Do, but because it is the city of their fallen brother, it’s Boromir’s home, the home that above all he gave everything to defend. Boromir doesn’t want the Ring for power, he wants it so his home will be safe, his family will be safe, and God who can’t relate to that, as we grow older and we see our families and friends attacked and scarred, as we have children and want them out of harm’s way. Who wouldn’t be tempted to seize the chance to keep them safe?

I see so much of myself in Boromir. And I take hope. I take inspiration. I cheer through my tears as he is hit again and again with arrows and each time he gets back up on his feet and grits his teeth and you can see him thinking not today. As a child I thought Boromir was selfish but as an adult I hear him use his last breath to apologize to Aragorn and call him his brother and his king and I see he’s more selfless than he ever gave himself credit for being. Boromir sees only his faults, but we can see what he doesn’t, we see his positive impact and we see his virtues, too.

Because as an adult I’ve failed, and I want to believe that like Boromir, I’ve also succeeded, I’ve also been more than just my faults–even if I can’t see that yet.

Aragorn is who we should be. But Boromir is who we are.

And my God, we should be proud of that. Because Boromir is a damn good person to be.

giphy.gif 

  • Like 1
Link to post
Share on other sites

Who doesn't like a good Ork fight?  The rest of it put me asleep, especially so the attempts at adding a love story here and there.  Being an archer I did take note of supremely good traditional skills though....

Link to post
Share on other sites
58 minutes ago, AlexGreen#20 said:

I've read a lot of ignorant bull**** in this thread, and I've let a lot of it slide because there's no point in arguing against dug-in dumbassery. But I am not going to sit here and listen to anybody slander Boromir. Boromir is a god damn legend. 

Think about the absolute bull**** that the state of the world was in at the start of this trilogy. Sauron was building his massive army in Mordor, and playing his shadow games, and nobody was doing anything about it. The dwarves of Moria were dead and the other powerful dwarf nations were afraid to stick their head out of the ground. The elves were in the middle of leaving Middle Earth. Rohan had collapsed under Wormtongue's poisoning of Theoden and the Eorlingas were a raving band of marauders, not an army. The leader of the wizards had betrayed the world. The only nation still fighting Sauron's hordes was Gondor, mostly because they were closest to Mordor and immediately threatened to be overrun.

The forces of Gondor were holding the darkness at bay, mostly because Captain Boromir was a ******* stud and leading the defense of Osgiliath, Minis Tirith, and the rest of the nation. Lord knows it wasn't ******* Steward Denethor keeping the nation together. 

Let's take a quick detour to talk about Denethor. What else is there to say about this piece of work? Boromir and Faramir's mother died when they were 10 and Denethor never pulled out of his spiral. He was driven to madness by jealousy and a loss of hope. He was only the Steward and not the king, like he felt he deserved. And more importantly, Gondor was going to fall. All of their allies against the darkness had abandoned them. There would be no great alliance of men and elves to once again stand against the darkness. Isildur's bloodline had abandoned the country. The only question of their being overrun by the orc hordes was when. He was a bitter and hateful man, and his only solace in the world was Boromir, who was carrying the defenses of the nation on his back. He didn't view Faramir the same way. In fact he hated Faramir most of all, why couldn't Faramir, quiet and studious, be more like Boromir? So Boromir did all he could to shelter his younger brother from his father's abuses. Heavy ****.

But that same sense of helplessness that gripped Denethor also had to affect Boromir. How could it not? How many fellow soldiers of Gondor had to have fallen in his years of service in a defense of a nation that he knew was soon to be doomed? He was fighting a battle that could never be won, and he fought it for years and years.

And then the Council of the Ring was called. Rather than send wise and patient Faramir, Denethor sends the son he was most proud of. Boromir is pulled away from the defenses of the nation and sent to Rivendell. While in Rivendell, who does he run into but Aragorn, the man who abandoned Gondor, the one who should be sitting on the throne that so vexes his father, the heir of Isildur, hiding amongst the elves rather than leading his nation. 

In the books it isn't like in the movies. The blood of the first men runs in Aragorn's veins. He's technically a man, but he's 9 feet tall, is inhumanely handsome and graceful, is popular amongst the elves, has already lived for many years, and just saved the world by protecting the ring bearer from the black riders. How can you not feel second best next to that guy?

So Frodo bounces back up and the council meets. And they come up with a plan that sounds absolutely pants-on-head idiotic. We're going to take the ring to Mordor and destroy it. And we're going to do it with 9 people. As Boromir says "Not with all the armies in Middle Earth could you do this." And he's right. This is an impossible task, as he knows better than anyone because he's the one who's been fighting against Mordor for the last decade. He knows storming the Black Gate is impossible. And it's not like Gandalf or Elrond say, "actually, we know a secret way into Mordor," cause they don't. They get that it's impossible but they have to try.

Boromir's basically arguing, it can't be that much more impossible that all the magic of elves and wizards can't break the magic of the ring, than it is to conquer Mordor. He's wrong, but he doesn't know that. 

So he signs on for the quest, even knowing it's impossible, because that's what heroes do. And he does his best. He carries the hobbits up the snowy peaks of Cadahras. He tries to teach them to fight. He defends them in Moria. He argues with Aragorn to give them a moment to grieve. He's trying. 

But the ring feeds on his hopelessness. Gandalf is dead, and with him went even the slightest prayer they had. 4 hobbits, 2 men, an elf, and a dwarf, against the entirety of Sauron's armies. It drives him to madness. That's what the ring does, but it isn't like the Ring gets to him by promising him that he'll rule the world. It promises him that with it Gondor would be strong enough to defend itself against Mordor and his people wouldn't be slaughtered and that Frodo trying to destroy the ring would just deliver it to Sauron sooner. So he does what he thought was right, he tries to take it. 

He fails and as soon as he's free of the rings influence he realizes his mistake and despairs at what he's done. He screams his apology to the empty forest, and then he gets up and tries to make up for it. He defends Merri and Pippen and dies defending them. Even as he's laying there dying and Aragorn find him he's apologizing, and then he gives the speech that inspires Aragorn to embrace his identity as King. That's a HUGE turning point as Aragorn goes from mostly-elf Ranger tagging along after Gandalf to a guy who's gonna lead the show. 

He dies before he sees his dream completed, Gondor restored to it's former glory and free from the shadow of Sauron. But his words put Aragorn on the path to making it a reality. His training the hobbits eventually leads to Eowyn killing the head Nazgul after Merry stabs it with the barrowblade, and even the rescue of the shire from Sauroman when the 4 hobbits return home. (and indirectly the saving of the world as it fractured the fellowship and sent Aragorn down the path towards Rohan and eventually Gondor, and sent Frodo towards Gollum, the only one who knows the secret tunnels into Mordor)

Look, I get it, dudes an easy target. Everybody wants to be Aragorn, and that's fine. Aragorn's awesome. But Aragorn isn't realistic. Boromir is. Failure is a part of life. Hopelessness is a part of life. Apologizing for your mistakes and then attempting to rectify them is a part of life. 

Boromir is a ******* hero. Aaron Rodgers is no Boromir. 

+++ Stolen liberally from below, which is also worth a read+++

I rant through my tears about how much I love Boromir every time I watch Lord of the Rings, which I do about once a year with @captainofthefallen. Every time I watch it, his death means more to me, hits me harder, and I think that’s because the older we get, the more we identify with Boromir.

Here’s the thing. In all honesty, as a kid (I first read LotR when I was eleven, first watched the films at that age as well), I wasn’t too fond of Boromir. Oh I liked him all right, he was fine I suppose, but I didn’t connect with him. I was angry when he tried to take the One Ring from Frodo, and I cried a little at his death because death is sad and I was a kid, but it didn’t devastate me.

Because as a kid? I wanted to be Aragorn. The reluctant king who rises up and does the right thing, always. The guy who gets the amazing (be still my bi heart) Arwen, the Evenstar, fairest of the elves. The guy who literally kicks ***. The man who is noble, honorable, thoughtful, good with his words, humble, knows the burdens of leadership, who stands up and says there will be a day when the courage of men fails, but this is not that day.

I wanted to be the hero.

I noticed this trend among my peers growing up. We all loved Aragorn and wanted to be him. Boromir was sort of dismissed.

But then a funny thing happened, called getting older.

I got older, and I ****ed up.

I got older, and depression hit.

I got older, and the weight of societal expectations, of being an older sibling, of adult responsibilities, of legacy, of family secrets, of family history, all settled on my shoulders.

I got older, and I learned that men are not always honorable, or kind, or humble, or the leaders they should be. And I learned how hard and desperate it is to continue to believe in the strength of men.

I got older, and I learned how temptation comes for us all, in different forms, and how we hurt people without meaning to, and how sometimes for all our regret and tears and apologies, we cannot mend what we broke.

I got older, and I leaned what it is to be forced into a role I didn’t want, to feel I’d hit a dead end, to struggle against those who had different views, to feel like people could look into my heart and see the anger and fear that I tried so hard to hide.

I got older, and I realized: I’m Boromir.

We’re all Boromir.

Tolkien was very deliberate with his characters. They aren’t just characters, flawed and wonderful though they might be. They also each represent something very specific. Aragorn represents the Ideal. The hero that we all can be, the hero that we should strive to be, the vision of mankind as we are supposed to be, if only we can let ourselves shed our hubris and our doubts. Aragorn represents who we should be.

Boromir represents who we are.

Flawed, frustrated, burdened, tempted, struggling, setback, good intentioned, afraid, angry, kindhearted, noble, loyal, and painfully, beautifully human.

Boromir went to the Council of Elrond reluctantly. He shouldn’t have gone. Boromir is a war leader, as we learn after his death. He successfully fought for and defended Gondor from Mordor for years. That’s where he belongs. Faramir is the quiet one, the diplomat, the “wizard’s pupil,” the soft-spoken and patient one. Note that even in the film version, which shows a differently characterized Faramir than in the books (Tolkien heavily based Faramir on himself), Faramir only wants the One Ring in order to give it to his father and win his father’s pride and affection–he doesn’t want it for himself.

If Faramir had been at the Council and Boromir had stayed in Gondor, everything would have gone differently, and possibly for the better.

But the Steward of ****wits aka Boromir and Faramir’s father decides he wants Boromir to go, to represent their family, because Boromir is the son he values and is the “face” of Gondor. So Boromir sets aside what he wants, and he goes. And the whole time he feels out of place, feels like a fish out of water, feels second to Aragorn, feels lost, feels terrified his city will fall while he is gone, feels like the race of Men is being mocked and looked down on as weak.

How many of us as we grow up are stuck like that? We can’t fix our family (although we try), we can’t fix our broken country (although we try), we can’t get rid of the doubts and fears that whisper to us (although we try), and we can’t stop feeling like we’re constantly second best, constantly failing, looked down on, especially the millennial generation.

(Given what’s happening in the world right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tolkien found himself surprisingly similar in outlook and feeling to our generation. But that’s another topic.)

And of course that’s the key. Boromir–darling, frustrated, stuck, fatally flawed Boromir–is so very relatable because he tries. He tries to teach Merry and Pippin to protect themselves and then tries to save them and dies for it. He tries to convince Aragorn (who at that point is more elf than man in his outlook) that there is no reason to give up on his people, their people–and he succeeds in that, although he dies before he gets to see it. He tries to make his father proud. He tries to apologize when he ****s up. He tries and he fails, and he tries and he succeeds. And the most important things he does, the biggest seeds he plants, he never sees them flower.

Like my God, the man’s last words are I failed. I failed you, I failed Frodo, I tried to take the Ring. I’m sorry, I failed. That hits me so goddamn hard in my mid20s and it’ll hit me even harder when I’m older, I’m sure. How many times have we said that to people? “I tried to help him.” “I tried to reach out.” “I tried to apologize.” “I tried to stop them.” “I tried so hard.” I tried, I tried, I tried. For the job, for the friend, for everything, I tried.

And I failed.

I have a laundry list of things I tried and failed at, and God, do they hurt. Sometimes it was something out of my control, sometimes it was my own behavior. And that scene with Boromir, the flawed man, staring up at Aragorn, the ideal hero, and begging him, begging him, “save them, they took the little ones, find Frodo,” begging him for forgiveness, apologizing for his failures?

Talk about a ******* metaphor.

We make our ideals in literature so that we have something to look up to and strive for, for others to strive for. Boromir falls prey to the ring, but Aragorn does not. You did what I could not. Of course Aragorn did. He’s the ideal. And we beg our ideals to be better so they can show us the way and hopefully, maybe, someday, we can be like them.

I had so many heroes growing up, real and literary. Sara from A Little Princess. Aragorn. Lucy from Narnia. Nancy Drew. Harry Potter. And so many times I would look at myself in the mirror and cry because I knew, I knew if I stood in front of them they would be disappointed in me. I knew I wasn’t being the person I could be. I tried, I failed, I tried, I failed, but my God I swear, I tried.

As a kid or even a teenager, we still see mainly who we want to be. Our ideal. And I hope that we never lose sight of that. I love Aragorn and my God am I going to keep trying to be like him, and like all of my other literary heroes. We need those heroes, we need them so badly, and the darker the world gets the brighter we have to make them shine.

As an adult, though–as an adult, we start to see not only who we want to be, but who we are, and who we could’ve been, and how we failed to be, and the paths not taken and the paths that were lost. And that’s important too. Because Boromir died convinced he was a failure. Convinced he was, truly, the weakness we find in men.

And he was… but he wasn’t.

Without Boromir, Aragorn wouldn’t know what happened to Merry and Pippin or where they went. Without Boromir, Aragorn would’ve had no hope in the race of men. Without Boromir, who would have carried the hobbits up the cold mountain, or taught them how to fight, or said give them a moment, for pity’s sake! Who would have defended Gondor for so long, or loved his brother with a ferocity that Denethor’s abuse couldn’t knock loose, and inspired that brother to keep fighting even as the light faded and the night grew cold and long?

Aragorn carries Boromir’s bracers throughout the rest of the trilogy, right up to his coronation, where he is still wearing them as he is made King. Because Boromir might not have seen it–we might not see it–but we tried and we failed but we didn’t fail at everything. Lives are made brighter for our presence. The world is better for our gifts and our convictions. And no fight, even a fight lost, is done in vain.

The remains of the Fellowship ride to Gondor not just because it’s the Right Thing to Do, but because it is the city of their fallen brother, it’s Boromir’s home, the home that above all he gave everything to defend. Boromir doesn’t want the Ring for power, he wants it so his home will be safe, his family will be safe, and God who can’t relate to that, as we grow older and we see our families and friends attacked and scarred, as we have children and want them out of harm’s way. Who wouldn’t be tempted to seize the chance to keep them safe?

I see so much of myself in Boromir. And I take hope. I take inspiration. I cheer through my tears as he is hit again and again with arrows and each time he gets back up on his feet and grits his teeth and you can see him thinking not today. As a child I thought Boromir was selfish but as an adult I hear him use his last breath to apologize to Aragorn and call him his brother and his king and I see he’s more selfless than he ever gave himself credit for being. Boromir sees only his faults, but we can see what he doesn’t, we see his positive impact and we see his virtues, too.

Because as an adult I’ve failed, and I want to believe that like Boromir, I’ve also succeeded, I’ve also been more than just my faults–even if I can’t see that yet.

Aragorn is who we should be. But Boromir is who we are.

And my God, we should be proud of that. Because Boromir is a damn good person to be.

thankful the lord of the rings GIF

Link to post
Share on other sites

I prefer Tolstoy to Tolkien, but that's just me. 

 

Some want to liken ol Rodge to Boromir.  He's actually beginning to be a little too concerned about his precious in reality.

  • Like 1
Link to post
Share on other sites
45 minutes ago, JBURGE said:

I read the whole thing and appreciate my favourite (or second fav) series of all time more because of it

Yea, I quite liked Boromir as a kid, though more because he looked like a badass in the movies than for any other reason. Still only made it like halfway through that post 😁

Link to post
Share on other sites
2 hours ago, AlexGreen#20 said:

I've read a lot of ignorant bull**** in this thread, and I've let a lot of it slide because there's no point in arguing against dug-in dumbassery. But I am not going to sit here and listen to anybody slander Boromir. Boromir is a god damn legend. 

Stuff

Um.. a little courtesy to post "**Spoilers"

Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.

×
×
  • Create New...