The right way to give Vick a second chance

Last week my brother Dan suggested that our beloved Minnesota Vikings should sign Michael Vick, the former Pro Bowl quarterback who had just been released from Leavenworth penitentiary (in case you've recently developed amnesia, he was convicted of running a large dog-fighting ring).

I disagreed.

What followed was a multi-hour, multi-venue argument (if you're familiar with the Marso Brothers, you know this is not a particularly rare occurrence). As usual, I'm not sure I really expressed my side of the argument very well in the heat of the moment, so here's my attempt to express it more clearly.

First of all, I don't think that Vick is the worst human being in the world, as the militant wing of PETA would have everyone believe. I love dogs, but I don't equate abusing dogs with violence against humans. There's a lot of other pro football players who have done worse in my eyes, like Rae Carruth (murder), Ray Lewis (assault) and Pacman Jones (part of a shooting that left a man paralyzed). Also, Vick was brought up in a rough part of Virginia where human life was relatively cheap, so maybe it shouldn't be terribly surprising that he didn't respect canine life.

That being said, the environment you grow up in and the fact that people you work with are doing horrible things don't excuse your own misdeeds.

Dan's main argument was that Vick has served his time and it's unfair to bar him from pro football, his main source of income. That makes sense to me on a lot of levels. If Vick was a plumber, an electrician, or even a journalist I would say sure, let him have his job back. But I have a problem with letting him be a high-profile NFL player a few months after he was enclosed in one of the most godforsaken places with some of the most anti-social people in the world.

My problem is this: pro athletes are public figures and kids look up to them.

When I was eight years old I got Gary Gaetti's autograph at a Twins game. My parents took a picture of me in my little Twins shirt and hat, staring up at a big, broad-shouldered Major League third baseman. You can see it in the eyes of that little kid in the picture: Gaetti's not a human being to him, he's a superhero.

It's not realistic, of course, to expect pro athletes to be superheroes. But I think we can expect them to follow the law. We need them to follow the law, because a huge part of pro sports is public relations. The more awful pro athletes act off the field, the less likely people will be to pay to watch them, especially in the current economic climate. And let's face it, they've been acting pretty awful lately. There's a reason “you can't spell felony without NFL” has become a popular joke.

I love sports, and I want to see them thrive. Which makes my first instinct to say let's get guys like Vick, Carruth, Lewis and Jones out, and out for good. There's plenty of law-abiding college players who would love to take their jobs. I also think it sends a bad message to kids to essentially say, “It doesn't matter what you did, if you're talented enough you can have your job back as soon as you get out of the pen.”

On the other hand, Dan also said that people deserve second chances and that our justice system is supposed to be about rehabilitation and not just punishment. All of which makes perfect sense to me (as it turns out, my bro makes a lot of good arguments).

So here's my dilemma. I think character counts in sports, and we have a responsibility to make sure our nation's kids have good role models. Like it or not, pro athletes are role models. On the other hand, I agree with Dan, in that we need to give Vick and others like him a path to redemption. It's the human thing to do.

So here's my proposal, specifically for the NFL: every player who commits a felony must complete a one-year rehabilitation program before they take the field. They must sign for the league minimum (still a generous, six-figure salary) and can only participate on the practice squad. At the same time they must perform a set amount of supervised community service – say 500 hours – to prove they can be positive role models.

That way, they can come back to the league, but they have to earn their way back. They're public figures, so they have to re-earn the public trust.

That's what I would have said to Dan regarding Mr. Vick, if I'd taken the time to organize my thoughts properly. I don't want to see him on the field in Viking purple this coming fall. But, given a year of exemplary behavior, he might change my mind.