Driving through the South these past few days, I’ve been listening to an ungodly amount of AM radio. Sadly, that means I’m getting one of two things:
A. Jeee-SUS! (For the record, nothing against Jesus. But even my most devout Christian friends acknowledge the inanity of AM religious radio).
B. Sports talk.
Boy, do I hate sports talk. Not all of it. But most. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Some yahoo who’s never even been in a locker room screaming at the top of his lungs about chemistry and passion and teamwork and how the Saints should trade their fourth-round pick to the Patriots for Tom Brady, Randy Moss and Wes Welker.
Anyhow, the topic of late has been, of course, Michael Vick, and how terrible it was that, in his statement of the other day, he failed to apologize.
My question: Who is Michael Vick supposed to apologize to? The fans? The talk radio yahoos? The NFL? Al Toon and Jojo Townsell?
For God’s sake, the guy spent 23 months in prison. That’s some serious time. A real punishment. Enough. I’ll write what I’m required by law to write here—I’m disgusted by the dog fighting, and what he did was horrible—but the man has paid his dues. And furthermore, who are any of us to judge and condemn and condemn and condemn another’s sins? You, the guy cheating on his wife with the local bus driver? You, the guy who steals 10 cents off every dollar at your job? You, the guy who swipes two morning newspapers from the vending machine? You, the guy who told your son to shut up when he wanted a second helping of pudding? You, the guy who drinks four beers before driving home every night? You, the guy who ignores your wife? You, the guy who pinched your executive assistant’s rear?
I respect PETA, and I admire their work. But if they show up at every Vick game with signs and chants, I’ll show up at every PETA rally at every Vick game with signs and chants.
Let the man be.
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