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Monday, June 15, 2009 6:28 PM EDT
DUNNE: NFL teams should avoid signing Vick
Brace yourself, the apology tour is coming. Lawrence Taylor, Michael Irvin, Ray Lewis, you know the drill.
Michael Vick will say all the right things. He’ll do charity work. He’ll apologize. He’ll see the light. Time will pass. He’ll meet with general managers. He’ll do touching, give-him-another-chance interviews on ESPN. He’ll apologize again. More time will pass.
The soft backdrop jazz on your television followed by athletes-turned-broadcasters begging for mercy will bombard you like spam on your email.
And through it all, you can only hope people remember the vicious crime that Vick committed. Training pets to kill. Profiting from it. And then brutally killing them. Yes, Vick served his time in prison. But really, no team should entertain the faint thought of signing him. Vick playing football again is Eliot Spitzer getting re-elected as governor or Eminem getting picked as a commencement speaker. Sick. Twisted. Shouldn’t be up for debate.
No quarterback in the history of the game has boasted Vick’s athleticism. He’s a pixilated figure being controlled by a kid on Madden. His ability to tuck and run is unmatched. This is a win-now league where coaches like Jon Gruden are fired after winning three division titles and a Super Bowl. Some decaying franchise out there that is unsettled at quarterback may envision Vick as a cheap, nothing-to-lose quick fix.
After all, the skyrocketing rookie market forced the Detroit Lions to unload $41.7 million in guaranteed money to a rookie, an unknown. Matthew Stafford may be Joey Harrington’s long, lost clone for all we know. Vick, meanwhile, has Pro Bowls, reached the NFC Championship appearance and spiked the sales of Advil PM everywhere. Coordinators tossed and turned at how to stop him. So, yes, some lawless GM out there will peer into their empty stadium and put morals on the backburner.
But whoever takes the bait will regret it. No, this isn’t a page out of the PETA playbook. Any group that compares factory farms to the Holocaust can’t be taken too seriously. But the long-term implications for signing Vick are staggering. It sets an irreversible standard for how any front office does business.
How can any general manager possibly punish a player after opening his arms to Vick? That’s like grounding your son for not doing his homework after your other son stole a car. Signing Vick would create an internal strife that’d take years for a team to recover from. No front office can maintain any type of disciplinary standards after being the one that gave Michael Vick a green light.
As a player, you’d laugh at your boss if you got fined for skipping a film session.
And as a fan, you’d revoke your season tickets. Vick’s name is tainted for a reason.
Not even the witty marketing team at Geico could spin this signing into a positive.
Vick’s crime was too raw and too public for the Joe Fan to embrace.
Even beyond the moral dilemma, the game has changed over the past few years. There is a less and less demand for running quarterbacks. The rapid evolution of two-back systems and West Coast-offense hybrids has marginalized the run-first quarterback. It’s why Vince Young was ousted by 36-year old Kerry Collins. It’s why the Minnesota Vikings are doing everything in their power - signing Sage Rosenfels, recruiting Brett Favre - to not start Tarvaris Jackson. And it’s why former-No. 1 pick Alex Smith is battling with...drum roll, please...Shaun Hill in San Francisco.
The demand for cerebral quarterbacks capable of dissecting a defense is higher than ever.
Vick failed to throw for 3,000 yards - hardly a milestone - in each of his six years with the Falcons. For all of his herculean arm strength, he has the accuracy of Shaq at the foul line. Every pass is a laser. No touch, no precision. Through his entire career, Vick never matured as a passer. Atlanta kept drafting receivers like Roddy White and Michael Jenkins, but Vick never figured it out. In one season, Matt Ryan did. Vick’s replacement threw for 3,440 yards and 16 touchdowns to key an improbable run to the playoffs last season.
Never been to the slammer myself, but something tells me one year in prison didn’t exactly do wonders for Vick’s passing ability. “The Longest Yard” was a movie, not real life. At best, Vick is a faster Kordell Stewart at this point.
And please, save the ‘slash’ plea. Everyone these days thinks freakish athletes will erupt into gimmicky ‘slash’ roles, where they can bob ‘n weave through defenses off pitches, hitches and other Ringling Brother quirks. Doodling Vick into X ‘n Os on paper sure can raise a coach’s adrenaline. But saying that Vick will electrify an offense in a ‘Wildcat’ type of offense is wishful thinking.
There’s a reason so many “athletes” flop as receivers in the NFL. Eric Crouch couldn’t get through one training camp. Chicago’s Devin Hester, arguably the most electric return man in the history in the NFL, was as powerless as the “new” David Ortiz. The list of crash-and-burns is long.
Yet above all, is Vick’s shameful crime. Vick’s posse slaughtered dogs. Short memories are natural. In today’s society, people embrace the openly guilty. Whereas Barry Bonds is despised, Jason Giambi is adored. That’s how our society functions these days. Maybe Vick turns his life around. But as far as having the privilege to step on a football field again? Come on. There aren’t enough “sorrys” in the world to reprimand what Vick did.
Any team that signs him will regret it.
(Tyler Dunne is a sports writer for the Olean Times Herald.)
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Jay wrote on Jun 15, 2009 7:42 PM: