Dog nyam him supper

Michael Vick is the most supremely gifted athlete that I have ever seen. I mean this in purely physical terms. He combined phenomenal speed and strength with a golden arm, allowing him to make throws that other quarterbacks could only dream of. All of us who have watched the NFL in the past few years will recall instances in which he transformed a broken play into a 50-yard run, or threw an absolute laser-beam to a teammate which could not help but be caught, as failure to do so might have led to physical damage to the receiver. Vick, while tantalising us with moments of sublime brilliance, never put everything together into a truly special season. Indeed, I don't believe that he evinced signs of genuine improvement in his throwing. This was a sticking point with coaches and fans alike and when combined with a less- than- ideal off-field persona, created a reservoir of disenchantment that has now broken over him in such spectacular fashion.
As I write, days after his legal team entered into a plea-bargain with the government on the array of charges facing him, the scuttlebut is that Vick may face as much as a year to eighteen months of a maximum five year sentence for having run an illegal dog-fighting operation inter alia. What has struck me is the sheer delight that is evident at this spectacular fall. Indeed, schadenfreude has seldom been more in the ascendant than it is in this case.
It is incumbent on me to state right away that I hold no brief for those who engage in the revolting practice of dog-fighting, with all its myriad cruelties. I have been sickened by the accounts of what actually transpires at these events. The preferred breed, the pit bull, is so tenacious that it will literally fight on until it collapses in exhaustion. There were reported instances in which animals continued to fight after having a leg gnawed off. Animals that fail to meet such standards are killed off. Vick and his associates appear to have taken a particular delight in this process. Shooting, drowning and hanging were among their preferred means of despatch. One can imagine the atmosphere surrounding these appalling deeds, as these men meted out their judgments on these poor animals: machismo run amok. I cleave firmly to a basic measure of civilisation, both for a culture and for persons. This is determined by how the society and/or the person treats beings that are in their charge. It goes without saying that, for me, Vick cannot be considered civilised, on the contrary, his behaviour was redolent of a vile barbarism.
American professional sports all have an off-season, a time in which athletes unwind from the rigours of the season past, spend time with their families, and begin to train for the season to come. In recent years it has often seemed that a new tradition has emerged for this period, now very much in the ascendant. This sees athletes finding what time they can for the activities outlined immediately above, subject to the time-constraint of being arrested on a wide variety of charges. Indeed, the off-season must now be a favourite time for defence attorneys across the US. Shootings, DUIs, assault of spouses, narcotics charges, and much else besides, perpetrated by pro athletes, dot police blotters across the country. The problem has become so severe that the leagues, particularly the NFL, have made moves to protect their brand by suspending players guilty of such conduct. What is interesting is that the most odious conduct, spousal abuse, has never raised a comparable degree of wrath to that stirred up by Vick's crimes.
What can we infer from this?
I believe that the Atlanta Falcons, having given Vick a stratospheric contract, and having not seen the requisite progression of his skills, have seized upon a chance to renege on it. The NFL is positively iniquitous in this regard. All of its contracts are fictions and the teams delight in cutting players the instant that they show a hint of decline. There is also the degree to which this episode has underlined the enormously important place that pets, and particularly dogs, have in North American life. Dog-fighting might be a regional sub-culture, but it runs seriously afoul of the overall mores regarding animals. Finally, there is the question of the quarterback, and its position as an American archetype. It is a moniker that communicates a great deal: leadership, a vital rung on the road to a lifetime of success, the quintessence of 'all-americanness'. Vick, with his image straight out of hip hop culture, complete with the dodgy retainers, who ratted him out fulsomely, was an affront to these perceptions. He had not made the effort that other black quarterbacks have made to be pliant, to conform themselves to the expectations of the wider culture. When disaster struck, nobody was there to assist him and instead many celebrated his demise.