Everybody loves a winner. Oh yes, indeed they do. And for all those hidebound hero-worshipping hyenas who vicariously feed off the victories of America’s sporting stars, there is no number of nefarious felonies that their icons can commit that will dampen their aggressive ardor. Neither assault nor battery nor manslaughter nor rape can freeze their We Won! frenzy. So when the Philadelphia Eagles football team signed Michael Vick to a contract back in 2009, one certainly knew that a cheesy bit of inconsequential canine killing could hardly silence the sideline applause.
Michael Vick, who is now the starting quarterback for the Eagles, is a convicted felon. He is also a proven liar. He was charged with organizing and taking part in dog fights and with the torture and killing of the dogs he bred for a pitiful life in the pit bull ring. When first confronted with the evidence found on his Virginia property back in 2007, Vick claimed to know nothing about the canine compound there. But when one of Vick’s bow-wow buddies became a federal witness, Mister Football then admitted to his role in the dog fighting racket. However, he continued to deny he had anything to do with the shooting, hanging, electrocuting, body slamming, and beating of the dogs in his care. It would take failing a polygraph test for this sports scumbag to throw in the poor-poor-innocent-me towel and plead guilty to all charges.
Isn’t it curious that it was only after Vick took over the quarterback slot in 2010 and was able to showcase his athletic abilities and help bring the Eagles some key wins this season that all the syrupy sentimental slop began to pour forth from the NFL and from that jackass now serving as the President of the United States. Misunderstood Michael made a ‘mistake’; Michael’s paid his dues; Michael’s so so sorry for the puppy persecution; Michael’s a reformed character.
Oh paleeezze! The guy got caught! His little ‘mistake’ was engaging in vicious and illegal acts of cruelty that spanned at least a 7-year period. Back in 2000 he was already a high roller in the dog fighting racket, betting $30,000 to $40,000 per fight and offering up his own dogs to the pit bull ring.
The Poster Boy for Underprivileged Repentance being peddled by the NFL and the football fraternity is motivated by big money. And those fanatical fans brushing off Vick’s crimes as if they were little indiscretions are only focused on feeding off the talent. We all know that if Vick’s professional performance fell on the mediocre side, there wouldn’t have been any telephone call from Mister Obama to Mister Lurie, the Eagles’ owner. And mediocrity wouldn’t bring out all the self-congratulatory back-slapping from the NFL.
The Michael Vick story is simply about Jock Strap Justice. No matter how professional football tries to reinvent the Vick image, this phony pile of poop remains nothing less than a brutal sadistic felon. So when the Eagles meet the Packers on Sunday, I’ll be rooting for the Pack’s defensive line, hoping for a little of the hair of the dog that never got the chance to take a chunk out of the arrogant ass of this overpaid punk.