During the pie course of dinner, talk turned to more important matters:  Football.  My guests from the south of Jersey seized the opportunity to inquire about the pending demise of the New York Giants, a risky question in my home.  They uttered dangerous words, the Philadelphia Eagles.

Whenever anyone mentions the Eagles, Dr. SJ makes a spitting sound and says, “they’re a dirty team.”  She’s been doing this since Buddy Ryan was coach.  She hated Buddy Ryan and contends they were taught to play dirty then and have continued ever since.

But like any other aficionado of football, she found it amazing that they let Donovan McNabb go and gave Michael Vick the starter job at quarterback.  Michael Vick, you will recall,  was involved in dog fighting.  He got himself a fine, Biglaw, defense.  Michael Vick copped a plea and got 23 months.  Michael Vick did time.

The rising star of the Atlanta Falcons flamed out.  While his crime fell short of tragedy, dog fighting is one of those venal, disgusting crimes that many find intolerable.  How can someone be so cruel as to enjoy, to cause, the maiming, the death, of a dog.  It’s sick.

So I asked the Jersey Shore cast what they thought of having Vick front and center, the star of their team, implicitly noting they must cross the border to a legitimate state in order to find an NFL team for which to root.  They hemmed and hawed.  “Love the team, hate the quarterback,” I asked?  They had yet to make peace with the cognitive dissonance.

After coming to grips with their lack of coming to grips with Michael Vick, the question was tossed back at me.  I explained that Vick did his time and paid his debt to society.  While he shouldn’t (and didn’t) get a free ride for being a football star, he shouldn’t be tainted for life for his crime.  He did wrong and paid the price.

But now he can still throw a football and scramble a bit.  There aren’t a lot of jobs one can get with that limited skill set, so NFL quarterback seemed like a pretty appropriate place to go to work.  I wonder if his probation officer helped him negotiate the contract, or whether he has any travel restrictions on his supervised release that impede his jetting to the next game.  Must he send weekly faxes asking for permission or can they cover the season with one longer fax?

Vick has shown sound judgment in keeping his mouth shut and playing football.  He is not a hero as a person, but he is still a person entitled to move past his crime and enjoy a successful career doing whatever someone will allow him to do.  The question is often raised when a well-known sports celebrity gets himself into trouble whether they should be held to a higher, or at least different, standard than others because they are role models.  We watch them play ball, but want them to be the poster boy for American virtue.

Just then, my mother, Phyllis, who looks at least five years younger than her age of eighty (she was a child bride), asked for another “sliver” of Dr. SJ’s sour cherry pie.  My niece reminded her that every three slivers was a slice.  She wasn’t fooling anyone.

Michael Vick is the poster boy for American virtue.  Not his virtue, as he lost that when he participated in the killing of dogs, but that of the fans in Philadelphia.  They weren’t too pleased with his joining the team last year, but they have accepted him, if not quite embraced him, this year.  Playing well didn’t hurt, mind you, but he is the starting quarterback of a team in the NFC East, the only division that really matters.  And he’s a convicted felon.

Redemption is hard to come by these days.  Whether because there are just too many people around to waste our time giving anyone a second chance, or because we achieved a simplicity in our view of others that prevents us from demonstrating that humanity is still an attribute of humans.  It looked as if no one could ever pay his debt to society and be given the opportunity to try again.

When the Eagles signed Vick, they took a huge risk.  It wasn’t a problem with his throwing arm, but with his acceptance by the fans who buy shirts with other people’s name and number on it.  They couldn’t be sure if Michael Vick would be cheered or booed as he took the field, even though his debt was paid.  My point was that if Vick could still throw the ball well enough to complete a pass after his release from prison, then he should be given the chance to play.  Not because he was a convicted felon, but despite it.  “The Philadelphia Eagles,” I said, “did the right thing.”

I heard the sound of “tfu” as Dr. SJ muttered, “they’re a dirty team.”  Phyllis said nothing as her mouth was filled with sour cherry pie.