THE NFL quarterback with one of the biggest contracts in the history of the sport reportedly uses the alias Ron Mexico when being treated at STD clinics for genital herpes. In the past couple of years, he's been sued for passing on that same disease to an ex-girlfriend, caused a brouhaha for walking through airport security carrying a water bottle with a concealed compartment which reeked of marijuana, and got caught on television making obscene gestures to his own fans. Each incident was bad enough in its own way yet they all pale next to the latest controversy engulfing the Atlanta Falcons' Michael Vick.
The player previously known as 'the human highlight reel' for his scintillating style on the field has become a permanent news story off it. In the past week alone, a police informant gave a television interview alleging Vick was a big-money backer in a Virginia dogfighting ring. A local sheriff then filed a warrant seeking to search one of the 26year-old's former homes. The warrant was thrown out on a legal technicality but the fact police are anxious to excavate the garden in order to see if it is the last resting place of 30 animals killed in dog fights doesn't exactly bode well for Vick's future.
In a year when the new NFL commissioner Roger Goodell is desperately trying to clean up a game so riddled with criminals that cynics dub it the National Felons League, the precipitous fall of one of its most exhilarating stars is not exactly timely. As recently as December 2004, the Falcons tied Vick to a ten-year $130m contract as pundits purred about how his unique blend of elusive speed and incredible athleticism had transformed the quarterback position. His number seven was the best-selling jersey in the entire sport and a 30-second Nike commercial called 'The Michael Vick Experience' was so popular there was talk of turning it into an amusement ride in Florida.
However, since police pulled up to the door of his house in Surry County, a rural part of Virginia near where he grew up, back in April, the talk has been more about when rather than if Nike, Powerade, EA Sports and CocaCola decide to void his lucrative endorsement contracts. An ongoing drugs investigation into one of Vick's posse . . .his cousin Davon Boddie . . . took a left turn when 66 dogs, including 55 pitbulls, were found on the premises. Some bore the scars of combat and a dogfighting pit was unearthed along with other gruesome paraphernalia such as the tools used to pry victorious animals off their victims.
"I'm never there, I'm never at the house, " said Vick in his denial of involvement in a crime regarded as a felony carrying a five-year prison term in the state of Virginia. "I left the house with my family members and my cousin.
They just haven't been doing the right thing. The issue will get resolved. It's unfortunate I have to take the heat behind it. If I'm not there, I don't know what's going on."
Even though no formal charges have yet been brought and supporters contend they never will be, Vick sold the house for half its market value within weeks of the raid and was hauled in for meetings with Falcons' owner Arthur Blank and the NFL's Goodell. Both men lectured him about the company he keeps and how seriously he was jeopardising his career. Regardless of whether he ever ends up doing prison time, any charge at all could yield a significant ban from the newly image-obsessed league. Especially given that his assocation with this barbarity has led to further media speculation that many of his sporting peers also like to dabble in a little dog-ondog action, and caused one or two others to make fools of their mouths.
"It's his property, " said Washington Redskins' running back Clinton Portis. "It's his dog. If that's what he wants to do, do it. It can't be too bad of a crime. There's lots of stuff that's a crime.
There's killers on the loose. . . You want to hunt down Michael Vick over fighting some dogs, you know, I think people should mind their business. It's prevalent in life. . . I know a lot of back roads that got some dog fighting, if you want to go see it.
But they're not bothering anybody. . . I'm sure some police got dogs and fight them, some judges got dogs and everything else."
The ironic thing about Vick is that as his troubles have burgeoned in recent times so have his powers waned. Opponents have learned to stifle his dramatic runs and in doing so exposed his mediocre passing ability to such an extent that last season many blamed him for the Falcons underachieving.
His reputation has taken so many serious hits that even before this all blew up Padraig Harrington's cousin Joey was signed as back-up amid speculation Vick might be under serious pressure to keep the starting job. A couple of years ago, that would have seemed improbable.
With talk shows from coast to coast discussing the intricate details of dogfighting, Vick arrived at off-season training last Thursday morning sporting a new look. As he took the field shorn of the braids he's worn during most of his professional career, his coach Bobby Petrino told the press: "He's got a big smile on his face and a nice haircut."
The hair will grow back. As for the smile. . .
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