â†µAt that point, the Atlanta Falcons will say, "Roger Goodell, please reinstate the idiot we foolishly threw millions upon millions of dollars at, so we can take his stupid self and release him, thus allowing some other team to take a chance on making this complete and total idiot an NFL quarterback." Roger Goodell will probably then agree, signing a few papers and publicly announcing that the moron known as Mike Vick can play football, if only because he's done his time and because perhaps the moron can do some good as an NFL QB. â†µâ†µ
â†µThen the obtuse twit known as Mike Vick can attempt to rejoin a franchise. It would help if the franchise was an especially stupid one, since the real essence of the Mike Vick party comes to someone with absolutely zero intelligence attempting to deal with being astonishingly wealthy. Wax romantic about the possible convoluted complexities of his psyche, of the excuses of his hard upbringing, of the intricacies of dogfighting culture. Ultimately this comes down to the condition of being a very talented idiot, a fortunate condition Vick has squandered magnificently. â†µ
â†µWhat's making me squeamish isn't dubbing his a life lived in the key of dumbass, since there is abundant evidence to point out that Mike Vick isn't that bright, and hasn't been for a while. (Just read the bankruptcy settlement and its listing of unaccounted for millions for evidence of this.) My squeamishness comes in the hope that he'll somehow become something in the public eye other than what he is: a brilliant idiot currently caught in the downcycle of fate's wheel. He could be just as dazzling on the field of play again as a player, and even then the mind will want to project greater, grander things on him as an athlete, the oldest kind of lie for a sports fan: that Mike Vick's on-field bursts of genius have something to do with anything else he does as a person. â†µâ†µ
â†µLaugh now, but the redemption script awaits, and all he needs to do is read along with the help of agents, handlers, and ESPN. Everyone else knows their parts down pat, and will happily play along. He may even mean it, though you'll never know. The point is not to dismiss this possibility, but to remember that the actor in question suffers from an incurable condition for which there is no cure: stupidity. It may flare up at any point without warning, and its side effects are endless. Take your chances with him at your own risk. â†µâ†µ
This post originally appeared on the Sporting Blog. For more, see The Sporting Blog Archives.