Written by Andrew Clayman

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Imagine if you will a scenario in which a collection of curmudgeonly old dogs sit around a dimly lit card table drinking gin, smoking cheap cigars, and ceaselessly barking at one another about the greediness and ineptitude of modern pro athletes. Okay, so they already made that show and it was called The Sportswriters on TV. But this is even better! This time, the old dogs are literally anthropomorphized canines, and you better believe they have strong opinions on the NFL MVP race.

It should be noted that the opinions of the pooches below do not necessarily reflect those of the writer of this article, but instead represent the potentially disturbing consequences of basing an entire column on a weird dream. Now, let's join the Sports Dogs on TV for their next segment.

Okay, pipe down, fellas. New Topic: there are three weeks left in the NFL season, and I hate to bring up the elephant in the room here, but a certain Philadelphia quarterback is a clear candidate for the league’s Most Valuable Player award.

Who’s an elephant? Elephants are slow, gentle creatures, Morty. If they were quarterbacks, they’d be drop-back pocket passers. Your metaphor stinks.

“Elephant in the room” is a figure of speech, you freakin’ idiot. Ya see, Morty here thinks we’ve all been avoiding the topic, but I am only too happy to toss in my two cents on the matter. It’s pretty simple, really. Michael Vick’s a thug and he ought to be on lockdown, not scoring touchdowns.

You’re lucky I agree with you, Sparky. Vick should be living in a cell block, not running behind blocks.

 

He'd look better as a jailbird than an Eagle.

 

Ha, yeah. He should be …something. Instead of… yeah. Sorry. I'm not good at this. Were we supposed to have something prepared? (silence)

...Anyway, I don't know about youz guys, but where I come from, they euthanize fellas after a year in the clink. But there’s Mike Vick, walkin' around like the toast of the town.

Bla bla bla, you guys are a bunch of whimpering, pathetic bastards, you know that? Same old bigoted garbage. Isn’t this America? Isn’t this the land of redemption and forgiveness? We’re supposed to be man’s best friend, so maybe we should act like it. Michael Vick served his time, admitted his guilt, and he’s been a banner citizen all season. In fact, he's been out in the community speaking to high school kids about the dangers of dog fighting.

Are you freakin serious right now, Rover?

 

Of course he’s serious. He’s been brainwashed by his master into spouting self-righteous human drivel all the time.

No, I’m just the only dog here who can advance this discussion beyond the predictable puns and racist attacks and just look at Michael Vick for who he is right now.

Great ghost of Benji, did you just drop the race card?! We are all literally colorblind, you moron.

 

Wait, can you go back to that part about Vick talking to high school kids? Is dog fighting actually a serious problem in high schools right now? That seems a tad weird to me. Why is Vick talking to kids about dog fighting?

Look, don’t make it seem like I’m out on an island here. In case you hadn’t noticed, Mike Vick is leading all vote-getters on the Pro Bowl ballot right now. His popularity has probably never been higher. Frankly, a lot of people see him as an inspiration. He’s one of the feel-good stories of 2010 and a welcome one after the falls from grace of Roethlisberger and Favre.

That’s true. Favre’s wiener made me sad.

 

Now don’t you start drinking the Koolaid, Clarence. Our friend Rover has clearly lost his mind. Are you honestly going to say that Michael Vick is a better role model for kids than Brett Favre?

Absolutely. While Brett’s been digging a giant hole for himself, Vick has dug himself out of one through hard work and determination. As he said himself, God told him one day that he was going down the wrong path. And then sure enough he got indicted and went to prison, and now he’s a changed man, using his experience to help others. In fact, just earlier today he told an interviewer that he'd like to own a dog again someday. [true fact] 

Okay, now I’m about ready to bite your damn nose off.

 

My question is, how are we defining “redemption” these days, fellas? Because the humans sure seem to have warped the meaning of that term pretty bad, as far as I can tell.

Damn right.

 

They seem to have forgotten that there are two kinds of comeback stories. In the first kind, a guy has suffered a setback by no fault of his own. We’re talking about your career-threatening injuries, cancer treatments, getting neutered-- natural adversity and huge obstacles that guys overcome. Then there’s the second kind, where a guy was just an idiot and did horrible things to himself, his family, or his team. We’re talking about getting mixed up in drugs, guns, rabid packs of coyotes. Coming back from something like that is all well and good, but nine times out of ten, it’s about saving your own hide and staying out of the pound. It’s not exactly heroic.

Ok, but let’s remove the Michael Vick bias from the conversation. Were you not inspired by Josh Hamilton winning the AL MVP this season?

Not really. It’s nice and all, but humans seem to equate redemption with heroism or greatness, when it really just means breaking even. You screwed up royally, then you stopped screwing up and did what you were supposed to be doing all along. You redeemed yourself, so congrats, you’re back to square one really. If I crap on the bed on Monday and Tuesday and manage to hold it on Wednesday, I don't think my master's giving me a medal.

Holding your bowels is not equivalent to kicking heroin.

 

Yeah, but see, if I was a top baseball prospect from a good home with a few million dollars on my table, I don’t think I would have started doing heroin in the first place. I think I would have skipped ahead to the MVP/adulation part and tried to inspire kids by being a good, clean role model.

Who also licks his own ass in public. (they all bark in laughter)

 

I gotta say, I’m shocked by your negative attitude, Morty. I mean, if anybody should be able to relate to the concept of an “underdog,” it ought to be a dog, right? I mean, we’ve all done things we regret. Some of us have spent some nights in the pound. Some of us have bitten a child or two. Hell, I've violently humped countless objects without their permission. Point is, we all have gotten second chances and we’ve grown into good, obedient pooches in the process. So why should we hold Michael Vick to a higher standard, just because he can throw a football 500 yards?

That commercial was camera tricks actually. He never really did that.

 

You’re missing the point, Rover. I’m not saying we can’t forgive Michael Vick or that we should prevent him from moving on with his life.

I am.

 

Well, all I’m saying is that humans, especially American humans, are way too infatuated with redemption stories. There are thousands of great athletes who go their whole careers doing things the right way-- honoring their families, helping in the community, playing fetch, sitting, and rolling over on command. But do people rally around these guys? No, humans are sick puppies. It’s just like how their women always pursue the biggest douchebag in the room in hopes that he'll eventually redeem himself and become a sensitive, loving companion. Our bitches don't need a Darth Vader character arc from us [ed. note: "bitch" is not a deragatory term in this context]. It's just silly. The only thing humans love more than laughing at a celebrity’s demise is giving him a standing ovation when he manages to climb his way back from the abyss and behave like a grownup.

It’s because everyone can relate to being down and out, Morty. And it’s comforting to know you can come back.

 

No, Rover. It’s because people feel rotten and guilty for enjoying the failures of others, and cheering for a “redemption story” gives them a false sense of justice, like they themselves helped inspire the athlete to turn the corner by speeding up his descent to rock bottom in the first place.

I think all of you guys are just too ashamed to admit that we’re all a bit like Michael Vick. He represents the canine spirit as much as the American one. The drive to succeed, to lick our wounds and get back in the fight, to scratch and claw our way to the top. I mean, I think the guy learned a lot from running a dog fighting league. He gave those pitbulls a chance to show what they could do in the heat of battle, so at the very least, we owe the man the same respect.  (silence)

Wait a second. You do realize that he tortured and murdered the dogs that couldn’t fight anymore, right?  (silence)

 

  … Um, no. He was arrested for hosting dog fights on his property.

 

No, dude. He also totally killed like a ton of dogs. Like, brutally, too. Strangling, electrocution. You didn’t hear about all that?

… I was not fully informed about those details, no.

 

Holy crap, Rover. Vick literally murdered like 30 of our brothers and sisters. How could you not know that?!

 

Even I know that and I spend 3 hours a day chasing my own tail.

 

Well, look. I still say redemption is a great thing. … But yeah, okay. In this case, Michael Vick can go f%*# himself.