Whose soul is Tony Dungy trying to save, Michael Vick’s or his own?
Dungy, a Promise Keeper who writes a blog on AllProDad.com, tragically lost his 18-year-old son James to suicide 3½ years ago. Dungy wasn’t there for his own son but now he’s there for Michael Vick.
The former Colts coach was busy pursuing his career and saving the world, yet his own house was in disrepair. So Vick is his personal project, his crusade, through which he hopes to somehow cleanse, somehow make up for, somehow resolve… something.
Vick, we’re being told, deserves a second chance. Even though his second chance, a second chance at freedom, was his release from prison. He even could have played pro football. The upstart United Football League, which carries neither the prominence nor the ties to a community that an NFL franchise does, was willing to pay him the same millions. But apparently that option, even in the short term, wasn’t good enough.
The truth is that nothing, not even saving Michael Vick, will bring Tony’s son back. And nothing will make up for the fact Dad was so emotionally removed from his own flesh and blood that he wasn’t aware of James’s despair.
That guilt is there to stay. Forever.
Do I blame Dungy for his son’s death? No. I empathize with him and his emotional torment.
But what about the people who can’t run fast, who can’t out-juke a linebacker? Do they get the same kind of accountability-free “second chance” Vick is getting after such a hideous offense? Of course not. And they shouldn’t, just like Vick shouldn’t. That’s the only reason Vick stepped out of prison and into a $1.6 million contract with your Philadelphia Eagles. Not because of any so-called deserved second chance, but because he can run fast.
And with the revered Dungy by his side as he tried to fake and spin his way back into the NFL, you know Vick was thinking, “Man, I’m in there now!” Paydirt.
Dungy wants to purify his own soul by softly urging others to betray theirs, because the Eagles sold their soul when they signed Vick. Deep down and maybe even subconsciously, like many people who’ve experienced a paralyzing loss, Dungy needs others to somehow understand the pain he feels. Even if it’s in some vague, roundabout, invisible way.
Let’s be clear. Lots of NFL players have gotten into trouble, been reckless, been dumb. Sometimes their actions have even had heartrending, fatal consequences, such as in the case of Donte’ Stallworth’s DUI manslaughter case. There is no denying that. But the difference between what Stallworth and others did and what Michael Vick did was their intent.
Michael Vick held dogs’ heads under water while they writhed in terror as he drowned them, derived pleasure as he felt their lives slip away between his hands. He took helpless dogs out into the woods behind his house and shot them, hung them, electrocuted them, because they didn’t perform to his satisfaction in deadly matches with other dogs.
And this went on for years.
There is no doubt about Vick’s intent. There is no doubt about his depravity.
Did he serve his time? Yes, he served as much time as Plaxico Burress might serve after stupidly shooting himself in the leg. Now Vick is a free man, free to live life and not abuse animals again. Why does that mean he should be allowed back in the NFL — on my team and representing my hometown?
It’s not about whether or not he screws up again; it’s about him being associated with Philadelphia and its football franchise. And it’s not about animal rights groups; it’s about having a conscience. I can’t cheer for Michael Vick. If he scores a touchdown in an Eagles uniform, I’ll feel nauseous.
Even though I’d be cheering for the logo and not the name on the back of the jersey, I can’t cheer for the logo as long as Vick is wearing it. I can’t cheer for it as long as Jeffrey Lurie owns it, as long as Andy Reid and Joe Banner are running it, and as long as Donovan McNabb, who lobbied for Vick to come here, represents it on the field.
Michael Vick is a sociopath who’s not capable of real remorse. If you don’t see that, you’re uninformed or you’re just a sucker.
Perhaps you have your own guilt about mistakes you’ve made in your life, so you’re hesitant to be judgmental. I completely understand that. But chances are your mistakes are different than being a sociopath. I bet you’ve never taken your dog out into your back yard, tied a noose around his neck, hung him by a tree limb and watched him struggle and die.
That was an ordinary afternoon for Michael Vick. That psychology doesn’t change.
Or maybe your priorities are grossly out of whack and you’re seeing what you want to see. You’ll be content if Vick just “says and does the right things.” Because, after all, he’s fast and also agile. That’s all it took for him to manipulate Dungy, commissioner Roger Goodell, Lurie, Banner, Reid and McNabb — Vick’s latest litter of puppy dogs.
When a franchise wins a major championship, like the Phillies did last year to finally end Philadelphia’s drought, it’s as if your whole city wins something. You take pride in it, you walk a little taller. Because your club, in which you’ve invested time and money and energy, stands at the pinnacle of the sports landscape. Because your team represents your town.
Life is shades of gray, and I’ve overlooked plenty of questionable off-field behavior by plenty of questionable athletes. But if the Eagles win a championship with Michael Vick on the team, I want no part of it.
I don’t want what Dungy is hocking. It’s awful about his son’s death, but he can take his traveling preacher act somewhere else. I don’t believe in Michael Vick, he doesn’t represent me, and I’m not selling my soul for a football title.
Entire Vick press conference
Eagles owner Jeffrey Lurie press conference
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The Phillies embrace their fans, with Ruben Amaro Jr. out there regularly, on Daily News Live, visiting the TV booth, wherever. And he doesn’t behave like an arrogant, entitled jackass. The Eagles, with Banner, Reid & Co., don’t care what anybody thinks.
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Baseball commissioner Bud Selig is considering 
