Jim Souhan: In tale of two divas, Moss gets no break

Viking No. 1, nearing the end of a Hall of Fame career, has abused drugs and alcohol, become the focus of an NFL investigation into alleged unseemly behavior, prompted three teams to give up on him, kept entire franchises waiting six or more months on his decisions, and played this season only after demanding more money, before engaging in a barely concealed feud with his head coach.

Viking No. 2, nearing the end of a Hall of Fame career, never has been accused of abusing drugs or alcohol, once bumped a meter maid with his car, prompted three teams to give up on him, and spent the first postgame news conference of this season expressing the desire for a contract extension, before his head coach decided to trade him.

Viking No. 1 is our foremost symbol of NFL toughness and emotion.

Viking No. 2 is our foremost symbol of NFL petulance and lethargy.

Viking No. 1 is Brett Favre.

Viking No. 2 is Randy Moss.

Are they really so different?

Both have proved remarkably durable. Both are shrewd players. Both are divas.

Here's the main difference: Favre is masterful at managing his image and deflecting negativity. Moss doesn't even try.

Every time Favre confronts controversy, he applies a patina of Southern charm, smiles, laughs, tells a funny story, and walks away from the podium with a wink.

Every time Moss confronts controversy, he becomes sullen and silent, allowing his detractors to control the story, sometimes even becoming the story himself by refusing to speak or speaking rudely.

Moss once said "I play when I want to play," and earned ridicule.

Imagine if Moss, during such a season, was asked about his ability to play with an injury that could limit his effectiveness, and he said, as Favre did this week, "I wouldn't put anything past me." We would have added that to a list of regrettable or funny lines, including "I play when I want to play" and "Straight cash, homey."

Sunday, Moss returns to New England, where he became the focus of a record-setting offense and caught what was almost the winning touchdown in a Super Bowl, just a month after the Patriots traded him because he was complaining about his contract status.

In any other city, Moss would be the lead story all week. In Minneapolis, with Favre's iron man streak in doubt, Moss is a footnote.

For all he's been through, Moss never has experienced anything like being Favre's teammate.

Ever since he started his college career, Moss has been his team's prima donna, the vortex of adulation and angst.

Traded to the Raiders, Moss became symbolic of one of sport's most dysfunctional franchises with every petulant move. Traded to the Patriots, Moss produced a synopsis of his career, playing brilliantly before his complaints forced a third team to give up on one of the greatest talents in NFL history.

If he were Favre, Moss would be able to explain it all away, making you laugh even if you didn't believe him.

Unfortunately for him, Moss plays when he wants to play, and acts like he wants to act, and lacks the charm that infuses Favre's persona.

That's why, 10 years from now, we'll remember Favre for his toughness and Moss for his immaturity, no matter how similar they really are.