Don Pierson

Brett Favre gets berated from time to time for "throwing it up for grabs." Randy Moss has berated quarterbacks from time to time for not throwing it up for grabs.

It's a marriage made for Lambeau Field.

Just think about it. The Packers have, and the Raiders should.

When last seen in Lambeau, Moss was in the end zone. In fact he was pretending to rub his own end zone against a goal post, a gesture that did not endear him to the Packer faithful. But that was in the 2004 playoffs, so long ago that even the sins of a former enemy can be forgiven.

Moss and Favre have been on the same field plenty of times before when Moss played for Minnesota. Entire games revolve around these two players, or used to, which is the point. In the twilight of their careers, what if they were allowed to play on the same team?

Admit it. Like either player or not, wouldn't you just love to see Favre throwing it up and Moss chasing it down? Just once?

Having just turned 30, Moss might argue that he's nowhere near his twilight. Maybe he isn't, but his chances to win are running out. If he really were smart, he would agree to take a paycut and lobby to play with Tom Brady and the New England Patriots, who are also looking for a big-play receiver.

But he'd look better at the Green and Gold, giving Favre one last shot at glory.

The Raiders don't need Moss. Never did, truth be told. They have nobody on their roster capable of getting him the ball. They got rid of Kerry Collins, who often showed a nice deep arm. They got rid of Aaron Brooks, who was a disaster. They didn't like heir apparent Marques Tuiasosopo. That leaves Andrew Walter.

The Raiders simply can't afford to pay Moss nearly $10 million in 2007 and $11 million in 2008 to chase passes from Walter. The Packers and Patriots wouldn't want to pay him that, either, but Moss might be convinced to restructure in exchange for a chance at winning.

Moss should be notified that many NFL fans have totally lost track of him since he was traded to Oakland. It was like he was tossed into a deep black hole from which he has not emerged. In the interim, Moss is no longer considered the league's premier receiver, not is he even the best receiver named Moss. That would be Washington's Santana.

If Moss is serious about his desire to win, as he often stated in Minnesota, then taking a paycut should be a no-brainer. This is his legacy at stake. He never asked to go to Oakland, but he could ask out. If he wants to be remembered as one of the all-time great receivers, he needs to show he can help a team at least get to a Super Bowl.

As much of an off-field distraction as Moss was in Minnesota, that seems like ancient history now. Terrell Owens long ago replaced Moss as the league's problem receiver. Other malcontents and lawbreakers have made Moss's antics seem like fraternity pranks in comparison. In Cincinnati, Moss would be the model citizen.

Green Bay signed Koren Robinson last season knowing he already had one foot in a year-long suspension, so adding Moss should not pose a philosophical rationalization. Likewise, New England turned reputed bad guy Corey Dillon into a productive cog in a Super Bowl team, so Moss wouldn't be a new challenge for Bill Belichick.

While his transcendent talent has diminished, it's still hard to tell how good Moss could be both healthy and happy. It certainly would be worth a second-round draft choice to find out.

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The Raiders will want a No. 1 pick, but the Patriots can point out they got Dillon for a No. 2. The Packers note they got no better than a No. 2 for disgruntled receiver Javon Walker last year.

The Raiders would be much better off with a second-round draft pick, even a third-rounder, this year than they will be with Moss. New coach Lane Kiffin, only a year older than Moss, has enough problems at receiver with Jerry Porter. In an effort to turn over a new leaf, Porter has decided to change uniform numbers. Moss should just change uniforms.

It is entirely possible that other teams will sense there is no way the Raiders can afford to keep Moss for one more season, financially or emotionally, and will wait for him to be released. But then teams like the Packers or Patriots, who could benefit most, throw themselves into the mix with a lot of other possible suitors who could distract Moss with money more than entice him with a ring.

Moss might need the older, more stable locker room of the Patriots to keep him on the straight and narrow, but why would he make trouble for Favre? Give him a break. At 30, even rebels change.

Moss never has been quite so fast or spectacular as he was as a rookie in 1998 when he averaged 19 yards a catch and scored 17 touchdowns in only 69 receptions, a ratio of one touchdown every four catches. He scored 17 touchdowns again in 2003, but that was on a career high 111 receptions.

Moss had vowed to make the rest of the league pay for what he perceived as a draft snub when he fell to 21st in the first round.

If he has become no more than an aging mercenary, content to cash his checks and make half-hearted attempts to play hard only "whenever I want to," then a gamble by the Packers or Patriots wouldn't be wise. Only Moss can provide the answer to that kind of skepticism.

But after two years of obscurity in Oakland, where he caught 102 passes and scored 11 touchdowns and won only six measly games, maybe, just maybe, Moss could bring himself to rejuvenate those feelings of revenge. Maybe he could take stock of himself and realize the only way he's going to be remembered in a definitively positive way is if he contributes to a winner.

Maybe he could vow to make the whole NFL pay again, as long is it isn't $10 million.