THE CHEESE WHIZARD

When it was reported that Michael Vick had signed a two-year deal with the Philadelphia Eagles, my mind paged through all possible excuses for why NOT to comment on the Eagles and Vick. I wanted no part of it. But you all refused, and here’s how it sounded.


“Dear Cheese, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. I can’t say I’m proud of this one.”

“Hey Cheese, How ‘bout those Philadelphia Dog Killas! Ruff, Ruff!”

“Michael Vick, huh, CheeseWhizard? Why doesn’t city council just drop a bomb near South Street, and urinate on the remains? Opposing fans are going to eat you alive.”

“Whiz, I hate this. Help.”

“Dear Cheese, Michael Vick: The furtherance of that lowlife Andy Reid's goal to hire other lowlifes. Next thing you know he’ll put his own kids on the Eagles payroll. The most eloquent reason yet to hate the Eagles.”

I want to hate it. I do.

On September 12, 2007, I brought home my very own 11-week-old Boston Terrier. Marley was my first dog, and is my best friend. And when Michael Vick was indicted two weeks later for running a dog-fighting ring out of his home in Virginia, I picked up my new best friend, held her against my chest, and prayed that she would never know the trauma that Vick’s dogs experienced. I prayed that she would never encounter a monster capable of drowning, electrocuting, or shooting perfectly healthy creatures because they weren’t good enough killers themselves.

But no matter how emotionally scarred by and unforgiving we are of Michael Vick’s past transgressions, we mustn’t forget that today’s dilemma is not one of personal acceptance. Today’s dilemma is one of social restoration. Commissioner Roger Goodell, Eagles President Joe Banner, owner Jeffrey Lurie and Coach Andy Reid aren’t asking you to be Michael Vick’s friend. They’re asking you to let him have his job back. So why do we hate it so much?

Michael Vick hasn’t endured enough punishment. No, that’s not it. Guidelines for his sentencing had most legal experts forecasting a 12-18 month term for the crimes Vick committed. He spent 23 months in prison. If our society sets the rules, and our society governs the punishment, then why shouldn’t our society hold up its end of the bargain and reinstate this man? If the issue is rooted in the length of his term, then the beef is with the judicial system, not the NFL, not the Eagles, and certainly not with Michael Vick himself.

We could argue all day about sentencing, and the seemingly arbitrary nature with which today’s court’s dole out prison sentences, but the fact of the matter is prison wasn’t the most painful blow. Michael Vick lost over $100 million in endorsement contracts, filed for bankruptcy protection as his debt neared $50 million, and lost out on over two seasons during the prime of his NFL playing career.

This is a Public Relations nightmare for the Philadelphia Eagles. Sure, it is. There will be lines of protestors picketing outside Lincoln Financial Field, and likely every other stadium the Eagles’ team bus rolls into this season. But think of all the people you know who are members of PETA. They all own animals, right? Most of them have adopted those pets from the SPCA or shelters, right? Many of those animals had behavior problems, social anxieties, and maybe even ferocious and violent tendencies that pushed them to bite or endanger other dogs and even people, right? These PETA members willingly stepped in and took responsibility for animals that didn’t know any better, weren’t disciplined correctly, and were cast away by a society who let them fall to the wayside. But when given the opportunity to readmit a fallen human being, they turn their nose up in disgust, and walk away?

How can we let this man be a role model? Let’s be honest, if this were Joe The Truck Driver, nobody would care if he did his time, paid his dues, asked for his old job, and went back to business hauling loads up and down I-95 at 40 cents a mile. But this is Michael Vick, and he is a role model. Why, because we chose to make him one. But in the words of the always-eloquent Charles Barkley, “Just because I can dunk a basketball doesn’t mean I should raise your kids.” At some point, people will realize that sport is entertainment. Jamie Foxx can write a song called, “Blame It on the Alcohol,” and Britney Spears, one entitled, “If You Seek Amy.” (Sound it out people) More young girls are concerned with Lindsay Lohan’s and Nicole Richie ’s sexcapades than boys are with Vick’s deviations, but those other entertainers aren’t held to the same role model standards. Why?

Growing up at the change of the millenium, we haven’t learned our lessons from watching players live like gentlemen. We learned that from our parents. From McGuire and Palmeiro we learned not to do steroids, lest we too fall from grace. We learned not to cork our bats from watching Sammy Sosa, embarrassed. We learned how to be honest when we watched man-child Danny Almonte dominate the Little League World Series, and then forfeit his team’s third place finish when it was found out he was really 14, not 12. Sadly, we even learned how to practice safe sex from listening to Magic Johnson. Kids won’t look at Michael Vick and think it’s acceptable to kill dogs. Kids will remember what kept him out of the game for two years. And they won’t make the same mistake.

As far as the game on the field is concerned, I can’t find a reason why Vick is bad for the Eagles.

With McNabb at quarterback, Andy Reid will find other ways to use Vick – splitting him out wide, putting him in the backfield, using the direct snap – ultimately taking the defensive focus off of the banged up Brian Westbrook.

If McNabb doesn’t perform over the next two seasons, gets hurt (as he has so many times before), or can’t come to terms with the Eagles two years from now, who better to take the reigns of this west coast offense than the runner and gunner in Vick.

But, most importantly, Michael Vick could push Donovan McNabb over the hump, forcing him to be the leader that he has never been; the leader who wins a Super Bowl. McNabb has spent 9 comfortable years with this franchise, and has never been threatened by a back up. His understudies - Kevin Kolb, AJ Feeley, Koy Detmer, Mike McMahon, Jeff Blake, and Tim Hasselbeck – have had an average career quarterback rating of 58.2. Only Jeff Garcia, with a rating of 90.2 brought anything worthwhile to the table, and the organization let him go after he led the team to the playoffs during McNabb’s 2006 injury.

I want to hate it. I do. I just can’t justify my discontent. He’s a man, who, by our own rules, has earned another chance. Why should we be so upset about giving it to him?