I never met Brett Favre, though I’ve heard some stories. But I remember where I was when he took his first snap as a Green Bay Packer.

It’d be hard for me to forget, seeing as how I was there.

Sept. 13, 1992, was one of those Florida summer Sundays where not even a liberal dollop of supposedly sweatproof 50 SPF could prevent you from looking like a boiled lobster after just under four hours in the sun, where $20 of water and pink lemonade wasn’t enough to keep hydrated and cool. The high temperature was 89, but in the concrete bowl of Tampa Stadium — which basically became an open-air kiln on days like these — an on-field thermometer registered 109.

The Buccaneers were drilling the Packers, both on the scoreboard and in physical punishment. Days of defensive dominance like these would someday become routine for the Bucs with the acquisitions of John Lynch, Derrick Brooks, Warren Sapp and defensive coordinator Monte Kiffin to guide them. But with a defense featuring Keith McCants, Mark Wheeler, Ray Seals, Darrick Brownlow, Darrell Fullington and Milton Mack, this sort of performance was a tad unusual.

The pressure left Green Bay starter Don Majkowski running for his life until he was finally unable to escape, bowing to injury in the third quarter. Trailing hopelessly, the Packers turned to a second-year quarterback from Southern Mississippi.