AMERICA AT LARGE:THE SPECTRE of an NFL team opening its training camp with its star player outside the stadium gates is a late-summer circumstance so reliably familiar that by now midwestern farmers probably plan their harvests around the inevitable occurrence.

Ordinarily the situation arises when said player, as often as not a quarterback, stages a holdout in an effort to renegotiate his contract. Occasionally the holdout presents itself as an undisguised attempt by the dissatisfied player to force a trade. We note that this once-uniquely American custom seems to have recently migrated overseas (See Ronaldo, Cristiano).

What makes this summer's soap opera different is that the most conspicuous training camp truant of 2008 isn't a disgruntled millionaire looking for a renegotiated contract, but one merely seeking to perform under the terms of his existing one.

Brett Favre's failure to join the Green Bay Packers, his team of 17 years, on the practice field has not been exactly voluntary: the team has asked him to stay away.

In doing so, Packers management has placed itself in the unenviable position of not only giving the appearance of treating the most popular player in franchise history like a piece of spoiled meat, but of thumbing their noses at their fans - among the most devoted in all of sport.

The NFL heads into its first full weekend of pre-season games tonight, and the odds are overwhelming that by the time the Packers play the last of these when they welcome the Cincinnati Bengals on Monday night, Favre will be wearing a new uniform. (Tampa Bay would appear the front-runner to obtain his services, with the New York Jets a close second and the Minnesota Vikings a distant third.)

A sure-fire first-ballot Hall of Famer when his playing days are ended, Favre enjoyed one of his most productive seasons last year when he threw for over 4,000 yards and 28 touchdowns and took the Packers to within a game of the Super Bowl. The winningest quarterback in NFL history extended his records for most touchdown passes, most passing yardage, most completions and, perhaps even more significantly in a position whose practitioners are often injured, started in his 275th consecutive game.

A three-time NFL Most Valuable Player, Favre was the runner-up for that award last year and was named Sports Illustrated's Sportsman of the Year. It seemed as good a time as any to plot an exit strategy, and in March he tearfully announced his retirement.

The Packers, plainly relieved by the prospect of not having to pay a 39-year-old quarterback the €7.8 million due on his contract this year (and €8 million more for next season) welcomed the decision, thanked Favre for past services and proceeded with plans to install 24-year-old Aaron Rodgers as his heir.

Given their enormous display of faith in his talents, it might be pointed out that in the three years he has spent on the Green Bay roster since being drafted out of California, Rodgers has thrown exactly one touchdown pass. But then, given Favre's durability, serving as his back-up didn't offer many opportunities for hands-on experience.

Within months Favre had begun to reconsider, and by early summer he had made up his mind he wanted to play again. That decision met a lukewarm response from the Green Bay front office, as well as from coach Mike McCarthy, who reiterated his position that Rodgers's time had arrived. Favre was advised to stay back on the farm in Mississippi.

Having been declared persona non grata in Wisconsin, Favre then tried to engineer a trade to the Vikings. But already faced with an insurrection on the part of the season ticket-holders, the Packers weren't about to let him escape to a divisional rival against whom they open their regular season at Lambeau Field next month. Instead, they attempted to sweeten the pot by offering Favre an essentially sinecure if only he would stay retired.

Having been discouraged by his putative employer, Favre next opted to force the issue when he petitioned NFL commissioner Roger Goodell to be removed from the "retired" list. On Monday Goodell reinstated the quarterback, and this week Favre reported, or tried to report, to training camp.

On Tuesday he met general manager Ted Thompson and McCarthy. The team's position was that Favre would be welcomed back only if he agreed to do so as Rodgers' back-up. Favre's was that he asked only for the chance to compete for his old job in a fair fight, and that at the end of pre-season he would accept the result of that competition.

When Thompson and McCarthy balked at providing this assurance, Favre correctly interpreted it as an indication that his presence was unwelcome. (The Packers' argument is that a Favre-Rodgers battle for the job would have a divisive effect on the locker-room, but it's hard to imagine anything more disruptive than the present silliness.)

So when the team practised at Lambeau Field yesterday, Favre was once again outside the gates looking in as he awaited his fate. There were placard-bearing pro-Favre pickets outside the stadium and chants of "We want Favre!" inside it, but it was plainly only a matter of time before the club pulled the trigger.

It might happen today, it might happen tomorrow, but it was clear enough to all, Brett Favre included, that he would never again wear the green-and-gold uniform he had served so well.

The next time a player in any sport elects to follow the money trail and bolts for greener pastures, it might behove us all to recall this sorry episode before we reflexively accuse him of disloyalty.