SackedOn Monday it was announced that Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick, one of the premier superstars of the National Football League, has agreed to plead guilty to federal conspiracy charges stemming from allegations that he and several associates operated a dogfighting ring from a Vick-owned property in Surry County, Virginia. The conspiracy charges carry a maximum of five years imprisonment and a $250,000 fine; sources indicate that prosecutors will recommend Vick be incarcerated for one year to 18 months - a prison term in line with a first offense, according to federal sentencing guidelines. The plea deal only settles the federal case against Vick; there is no word yet whether or not the Commonwealth of Virginia will continue to seek its own set of indictments.
Since yesterday's announcement, much of the focus has shifted to Michael Vick's future in the NFL, and more specifically, what the League's response will be to Mr. Vick's pending conviction. It is already assumed that the NFL will suspend Vick, and that his suspension will not run concurrently with his prison term. Following a spate of high profile off-the-field incidents involving players this off-season, there is a significant amount of pressure from the media, fans, and team owners on the NFL and its rookie commissioner, Roger Goodell, to make an example of Vick under the League's recently toughened personal conduct policy.
Public sentiment in the matter has been understandably harsh. Dogfighting is an extremely cruel enterprise, tantamount to physical and psychological torture for the animals forced to participate; the federal indictment in Vick's case specifically enumerates some particularly abominable practices, which I will not rehash here. Furthermore, Michael Vick, as a star NFL quarterback, is not unreasonably assumed to have some responsibilities as a role model and leader in his community - responsibilities he has obviously abdicated by participating in such a barbaric criminal activity. He is also extremely wealthy, with a $130 million contract (not all of which is guaranteed) and several lucrative endorsement deals, all of which he gambled away on his repugnant "leisure" activity. There is a sense that through his actions, Vick squandered his immense athletic gifts - gifts that most of his fans believe they would give anything to have. In their eyes, this betrayal, this waste, may almost be a bigger crime than the dogfighting itself, and they are inclined to despise Vick all the more for it.
Yet it would be pollyannaish to suggest that all of the opprobrium directed at Vick is solely occasioned by such "pure" motivations. Any thinking man must consider the fact that Mr. Vick is a young, prominent African-American with a hip hop-informed public persona; that is to say, for much of white America, he is the "wrong" kind of black. It is not hard to detect the schadenfreude dimension at work here - just note the relish and abandon with which sports talk radio call-ins will apply the pejorative "thug" label to Vick over the coming weeks. A certain, bigoted segment of American sports fans will always root for men like Mike Vick to fail; sadly, this time he has managed to live down to their expectations.
Should Vick be punished for his actions? Of course, and he will be: at least one year of his mortal life will be spent without freedom, an inmate in a federal prison. Furthermore, the NFL, as previously discussed, will undoubtedly suspend him, denying Vick the opportunity to play professional football at its highest level and the financial compensation that would be afforded him. This, too, is just: Vick has broken the law, and in doing so caused his employer grave embarrassment, tarnishing both the Atlanta Falcons and the NFL brand. Furthermore, he lied about his actions on several occasions to Falcons owner Arthur Blank and Commissioner Goodell, abusing their trust and disrespecting their authority.
What is particularly fascinating about Vick's case is that we somehow have come to expect that the latter punishment is going to be more meaningful, more fitting, than the former. We have seemingly sublimated our faith in the American justice system to our faith in Roger Goodell. Part of this is doubtlessly fueled by the fact that the sports media has been the primary source of coverage on Vick's case - certainly Mr. Vick's legal disposition is of less material interest to ESPN than what impact his absence will have on the Falcons' salary cap structure. However, I think it also reflects the widespread belief in our society that our justice system is somehow incapable of dealing with the rich and powerful, or the most noxious offenders. We reason that prison won't sufficiently "hurt" Vick, the same way we reason that our courts are incapable of appropriately dealing with terrorists. In real life, we turn to extrajudicial military tribunals to handle "enemy combatants" or the NFL to deny Vick his dream and his livelihood; in the movies it's Charles Bronson in Death Wish, wasting punks and delivering gleefully fascistic vengeance.
So what punishment fits the crime, then? Materially, I hardly think it matters; in any instance Vick will probably never play in the NFL again. If he serves one year in prison, as is likely, and then just a one year suspension (unlikely, given that one year is what Pacman Jones received without a conviction), the earliest Vick would be eligible would be for the 2009-10 season. By that point he would be 30 years old, almost past his prime for a running quarterback, and Vick has thus far shown no ability or inclination to become a better passer. Additionally he would have lost out on two seasons of potential development, which almost all observers agree that he sorely requires. And, as Salon.com's King Kaufman correctly points out (subscription required), the peculiarities of the quarterback position within the game of football present their own set of obstacles: "The quarterback is the face of the franchise, the guy on the billboards, the leader of the team. If he's not a gem of a guy, you work with that as best you can, but a vicious animal torturer and killer?"
In any event I suspect that Roger Goodell, a far smarter man than I, has probably considered this possibility. He realizes that by simply banning Vick from the game for two or three seasons following his release from prison that he can sweep him under the rug without countenancing the potential controversy that a lifetime ban would invite. He can maintain the pretense of fairness and proportionality with a straight face when a reporter asks him why so and so who just beat up his girlfriend got an eight game suspension while Vick remains locked out of the game permanently for abusing animals. Sure, Goodell will take a little heat for his perceived leniency right now, but the story will run out of steam once Vick packs off for jail, and who's going to care about Michael Vick when his suspension ends in 2011 or 2012? By then the face of the league will be completely different anyway, with a new constellation of stars in ascendance. The game will move on.
Interestingly, Deion Sanders, himself a former football star and current commentator for the NFL Network, wrote a newspaper column defending Vick; after its publication, the Network (read: Goodell) ordered Sanders to refrain from commenting on Vick's case in the future. Most of Sanders' column is trash, dedicated to making feeble excuses for Vick, or diffusing responsibility off of Vick (he's not the ringleader), or insisting that there ought to be higher priorities than prosecuting Vick (though how a dogfighting investigation in Virginia would drain resources from the Colorado investigation into the murder of Broncos' player Darrent Williams is never made clear). However, he makes one fascinating point:
...some people enjoy proving they have the biggest, toughest dog on the street. You’re probably not going to believe this, but I bet Vick loves the dogs that were the biggest and the baddest. Maybe, he identified with them in some way. (Italics added.)Gregg Easterbrook, in his outstanding August 17th ESPN.com column, first drew out the significance of these remarks:
You don't need to be Dr. Freud to see the parallels between killing a dog that lost a fight and cutting an NFL player who had a bad game -- or shrugging as a soldier dies in the Iraq desert because the Pentagon didn't care that a corrupt defense contractor stole the money that was supposed to be used for armor.One wonders what Commissioner Goodell might read into that.
