Michael Dwayne Vick is free. I know i'm late!

By Tolu Olorunda “What if Peyton was fighting dogs instead of Mike Vick?/” —Jadakiss ft. Nas, “What If,” The Last Kiss, 2009. “They say I’m all about murder-murder and kill-kill/ But what about Grindhouse and Kill Bill?/ What about Cheney and Halliburton?/ … How’s NaS the most violent person?/” —Nas, “Sly Fox,” Untitled, 2008. “What if history was changed?/ Slavery reversed/ Would black ladies see white boys/ And clinch they purse?/” —Fredro Starr, “What If,” Firestarr, 2001. Finally, Michael Dwayne Vick is free—well, not so. Stuck with an ankle monitor, Vick is to spend two months of home confinement at his Virginia residence. Last Wednesday, the former Atlanta Falcons quarterback was released from a Leavenworth, Kansas, federal prison, after spending 19 months there for allegedly running an illegal dogfighting ring. Right on cue, the sports media is fired up and ready to go. Weeks before his release date drew close, the pundit circuit had begun setting parameters under which Vick could once again play the sport he was untouchable at. To hear them tell it, he would have to make a public apology, televise commercials warning against the dangers of dogfighting, beg for Roger Goodell’s (NFL commissioner) forgiveness, and make amends—financially—for his wrongdoings. Among other things, he would have to join forces with People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA)—the same organization which recently asked that he undergo “mental evaluation”—to emphasize regret about his past conducts. Vick is being pressured to form alliance with this group, which ruthlessly engages in crude advertisements, ostensibly to justify their love for animals, such as dressing up in Ku Klux Klan (KKK) garbs and accusing targets of attempts to create a “master race” of pure bred dogs—which, they argue, shares similarities with the KKK’s values. Forbes magazine National Editor, Michael Ozanian, captured this whirlwind of self-satisfying rhetoric-fest last Saturday, in a column titled “Free Michael Vick.” He wrote: Vick has served his time under the law. He should not have to bend over backwards and do summersaults to prove anything to NFL commissioner Roger Goodell. Vick should not have to kiss the butt of the Humane Society or assist the animal rights group in any way. He should not have to “donate” any of his future earnings to any causes to repent. The law is the law. Vick broke it and paid the price. It is now time to completely free him. It’s important to note that Michael Vick spent 19 months behind bars for a crime, inhumane as it was, more mainstream than the elite, gotcha media tried to make it out to be. (And it ain’t just Black folks doing it.) The acerbic condemnation lashed out at Vick during the beginning stages of his trial, proved that, for many, it had less to do with Vick’s alleged crimes against canines, and more with his function as a Black Quarterback (an anomaly in the league). And not just any Black QB, but a fearless one—at that. Before the prosecution could unravel all evidence sought in incriminating Vick, most pundits had convinced themselves that not only was he guilty, but jail time was due. The reason for this was explained by Black Philadelphia Eagles Quarterback, Donovan McNabb, in a 2007 HBO documentary. McNabb, no stranger to media-generated controversies, himself, was more qualified than any other in his contention that Black athletes, and Black Quarterbacks especially, bear burdens their White counterparts are never subjected to. “There’s not that many African-American Quarterbacks, so we have to do a little bit extra,” McNabb said. Using his career as a case study, he continued: “Because the percentage of us playing this position, which people didn’t want us to play, is low… we do a little extra.” That extra he spoke off, is what constitutes the stark racial disparity of coverage issued by mainstream media and directed at Black athletes—more so, the non-conformist ones. Vick was one of those—like T O—non-conformist. And for that, he paid a steep price. I’m not, by any means, suggesting that Michael Vick or T O are progressive athletes with revolutionary inclinations, but their firm commitment to on and off-field unregulated self-expression, counts for much in the larger equation of Black professional athleticism. I’ve always believed that the greatest sin a Black professional athlete can commit, in the eyes of Major League Sports, is to intimate—not necessarily state—that their career is not the most important priority in life. Once that happens, the media is whipped-up and unleashed on these personalities, and equipped with all weaponry needed to destroy, defame and defeat that spirit which provoked such defiant conviction. If unsuccessful in defeating the spirit, they usually have no choice but to assassinate the characters themselves. This has happened time and time again. Jackie Robinson, Jim Brown, Muhammad Ali, Tommie Smith, John Carlos, Mike “Iron Mike” Tyson, Shareef Abdur-Rahim, and Etan Thomas are but a few examples. The threat posed by such intimation never misses the detection of the three draconian-like commissioners: Roger Goodell (NFL), David Stern (NBA), Bud Selig (MLB). Above all, Roger Goodell has been most competent in taking Authoritarianism to unreached heights. In Vick’s case, it’s hardly a secret that no other figure must be more pleased with his appeal, than Mr. Goodell. Of course, as one only who possesses the power to reinstate Vick, Goodell has made known—in indefinite terms—what requirements are made of him: “Michael’s going to have to demonstrate to myself and the general public and to a lot of people, did he learn anything from this experience? Does he regret what happened? Does he feel that he can be a positive influence going forward?” At this statement, I’m reminded of the old joke, coined by 19th century journalist, Charles Anderson Dana: “Dog Bites Man: Not News. Man Bites Dog: News.” Any observant eye can see that Commissioner Goodell has been anything but a “positive influence,” in his role as CEO of the NFL. Taking any and all opportunities to regulate the lives of players, Goodell’s policies have no limit in absurdity and acidity. A succinct example of his sulfuric sensibilities came through last year, during the media-made firestorm around former Dallas Cowboy cornerback, Adam Jones, for a reported violation of “personal conduct policy.” Jones was suspended indefinitely, but not before Goodell could humiliate him as creatively as possible. In an open letter to Jones, published for the world to see, he wrote: “It’s terribly disappointing to me that we’re dealing with this again and that he’s reflecting so poorly on all of the players in this league, which they don’t deserve.” Like a parent reprimanding a child, Goodell further explained that Jones’ actions had produced a “disturbing pattern of behavior,” which was “clearly inconsistent with the conditions I set for your continued participation in the NFL.” [Emphasis mine] Goodell’s remarks last week share a striking similarity to that letter, and for good reason: Most Black men, like Michael Vick and Adam Jones, are inherently smeared with the Hip-Hop stereotype; a taint unlike any other in its destructive potentials and demonizing possibilities. The fact that men who look like Roger Goodell and David Stern are more likely to be found as executives of record labels, bears no invalidation upon this assertion. The fact that those who cling to this theory are grossly unenlightened about the true essence of Hip-Hop culture and music, couldn’t matter less in the (money-making) discourses centered on (perceived) parallels between Black masculinity and criminality. The fact that White athletes, like Jadakiss and McNabb contended, are never subject to equally vitriolic generalized representations, is meaningless to the Goodells and Sterns and Seligs of this world. In “Public Spaces, Private Lives: Beyond the Culture of Cynicism,” acclaimed scholar, Dr. Henry Giroux, argues, quite convincingly, that these representations and images are having far more impact than mass media—which plays the largest role—is willing to acknowledge. He writes: Fed by widespread stereotypical images of black youth as super predators and black culture as the culture of criminality, minority youth face not only a criminal justice system that harasses and humiliates them but also a larger society that increasingly undercuts their chances for a living wage, quality jobs, essentially social services, and decent schools. The politics of punishment then becomes the last hope they have left, to bleach out thuggery—independence—from the minds of Black athletes. The politics of punishment comes to represent a salient, administrative weapon of mass destruction that renders mute the vocal volumes of political courage Black athletes are illimitably capable of mustering. The politics of punishment successfully keeps at bay the worries of Goodell, Stern, and Selig, ensuring that their employees—potential forces for empowerment—are forever kept in check, and reduced to factory-like workers, within the capitalistic system of professional sports. “And why you tryin’ to slave us/ With minimum wages/ Slammin’ my ni**as up in cages/ Changing their behaviors/” —Onyx, “Last Dayz,” All We Got Iz Us, 1995. InTheMixWithTre’