Simmons on Michael Vick

In this conclusion to his piece he begins by quoting his wife:

"I can't forgive anyone who does ... that. I am a dog lover. You are a dog liker."

Fair enough. But I believe in second chances for anyone who screwed up because they were immature, came from a poor background or were surrounded by unseemly influences ... as long as that person makes amends. The difference between Vick and LeBron James -- another superstar who hailed from a rough background and tarnished his image, only unlike Vick, he did so without intentionally hurting anyone or breaking the law -- is that LeBron steadfastly refuses to admit his "Decision" was ruinously handled from start to finish. If he had a do-over, he would ram that butcher's knife into Cleveland's back all over again. How do I know this? Because LeBron never jettisoned the sycophants and opportunists who walked him into July's public relations disaster. And because he still doesn't seem to comprehend why so many found "The Decision" so revolting, as evidenced by LeBron playing the race card this week. You know, because we've been so kind to Brett Favre these past two years.

At some point, LeBron will realize his inner circle led him astray. He will clean house, apologize to Cleveland and seem sincere. He will re-examine his Cavaliers tenure, realize how enabled and coddled he was, then wish someone he trusted had looked him in the eye and said, "Look, you can't leave Cleveland this way ... it's wrong." For a variety of reasons, LeBron lived his first 25 years without ever finding such a person. Sometimes you can't shape your life; sometimes your life shapes you. Nobody knows this better than Michael Vick.

In "Shawshank," there's that wonderful scene near the end when the parole board asks if Red has been rehabilitated. "There's not a day that goes by where I don't feel regret," Red admits. "Not because I'm in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was back then. A young, stupid kid ... I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense into him. Tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone."

I believe Michael Vick talked some sense into himself. Just in time. I like to believe it, anyway. That's why I root for him every Sunday. And if he doesn't truly feel he's changed, then I can only tell you this: He snookered me good.

Read the rest.  

(HT:  Joe Crispin)