Before you jump down my throat, let me first start by saying that I completely understand where you're coming from. In fact, the matter is pretty cut-and-dry: Michael Vick did some pretty horrible things during his life. More specifically, Michael Vick did some pretty horrible things in the last decade of his NFL career, so horrible that I will refrain from mentioning the specifics of his legal troubles for the purposes of this letter. Please see the cover photo if you're confused.
But did is the key word to consider in this scenario. Put yourself in his shoes and think about it. Did you ever do anything regretful in your life? Granted, your mistakes undoubtedly weren't as public and profound as Michael Vick's, but then again, you're not Michael Vick.
At this point, you're probably thinking the inevitable: "This guy doesn't have dogs, so he doesn't have any clue what he's talking about." I'll have you know, though, that I've had a more than healthy relationship with man's best friend for nearly my entire life. Currently, I have two four-legged friends at home whom I love as much as anything in the world. Visiting them on a weekend home from college is far and away one of my favorite things to do. If you're still questioning my devotion to our canine companions, I would advise you to visit my Instagram account and try to figure out why somebody who doesn't love their dogs pays such admiration to them on #NationalDogDay.
To be honest, I really didn't have all that big of a problem with Vick returning to the NFL after his prison sentence ended in 2009. But when the Pittsburgh Steelers, my favorite NFL team, signed him to a one year deal to be the team's backup quarterback right before the start of the season, I knew there would be backlash from a sect of Steeler fans accustomed to seeing the Rooney traditions being strictly upheld throughout all tiers of the team.
What if, and stick with me here, the prison system actually did its job in rehabilitating him? I know it's crazy to think about, but in the nearly six years since Vick's last day in a cell, very few could argue that he hasn't, at the very least, displayed signs of a changed man. Heck, he had some of his best statistical performances in the 2009-2013 era with the Eagles, despite wicked outcries about his return to the league not long after his incarceration. The NFL even awarded him the Comeback Player of the Year award for the 2010 season. That, in my opinion, takes an abnormal amount of courage, something that pre-imprisonment Michael Vick, I might argue, didn't have.
Yet, after his very first practice as a Pittsburgh Steeler, of the horde of reporters standing at his locker, one couldn't help but to blurt out the million-dollar question: "What would you say to people who are still angry over your past actions?"
And, lo and behold, he stood there and responded as best as he possibly could, taking responsibility, apologizing, and citing his acts of amendment as reasons for forgiveness. Don't you think he's tired of answering that question? In America, of all places in the world, doesn't it seem reasonable that somebody should be able to move on with their life after serving 21 months in prison? Has he still not paid his debt to society?
It's ironic that people are still upset about Vick playing in the NFL, because from a pure football perspective, the Steelers signing him made total sense. The team had just placed its backup quarterback on injured reserve and were in desperate need of a seasoned veteran with proven talent and experience to back up Ben Roethlisberger. On top of that, Steelers coach Mike Tomlin has a personal relationship with Vick, as the two both hail from the Hampton, Virginia area.
That wasn't enough for the most outspoken members of Steeler nation, though, as fans picketed practices, threw away their Terrible Towels, and stopped supporting the team altogether because of one Michael Vick, whose checkered past is enough to drive away members of one of the most loyal professional fan bases in America. Mind you, he wasn't even in the plans to play a single down of football for the team during the year.
But alas, when Ben Roethlisberger sustained an injury, the team called upon Michael Vick. I'll admit it, I wanted him to play phenomenally not only to see the team succeed in Big Ben's absence, but also to see him finally silence people like you. That didn't happen. About halfway through his fourth game as the Steelers' quarterback, Vick left the game with an injury, handing the limelight to third-string quarterback Landry Jones, who shined brightly. Your judgement still looms.
It's funny, though, that we all ultimately got what we wished for. Vick led the team to two (and a half?) wins as a starter, and did everything in his power to set up a third and keep the season afloat. However, he didn't play nearly well enough to silence any of his outstanding critics, and then he got hurt. If you ask me, that's pretty unfortunate, but I'm thankful the Steelers gave him the opportunity to prove his worth as a rehabilitated, refurbished NFL quarterback. Though it was painstakingly apparent in his play that he is a shell of his former self at this point in his career, I still would like to thank him for his contributions to the team.
For Michael Vick, his time as a starting quarterback has probably all but run out. It's Landry Jones' offense now, as Vick will be sidelined a few weeks while facing a tear in his hamstring. By the time Vick even thinks about having the doctors clear him, Ben Roethlisberger will have made his long-awaited return, and Vick will be relegated to the bench once again, signalling the end of what very well could have been his last opportunity to be a starting quarterback in the NFL, and maybe even his career in the league. Are you happy yet?
As one of the most prolific quarterbacks to ever play the game, Vick redefined the quarterback position with his small stature, willingness to scramble, and shifty elusiveness, allowing him to escape defenders in the pocket. What's remarkable is that he still compiled a tremendous career of passing statistics despite his unorthodox quarterback mentality. He became an NFL household name, and many fans around the country pledged their allegiance to him by sporting a pair of his athletic shoes, football cleats, or even his unmistakable red, black, and white retro Atlanta Falcons jersey. Save for his off the field conduct, I think he'd be an easy shoo-in for the NFL Hall of Fame someday. Now, because of people like you, I'm not so certain.
Sincerely,
Somebody who believes in chance and finds inspiration in people making something great out of the dire circumstances thrown at them
