MV 2.0: The 2010–11 Season
“I’ve never seen anything like this!”
—Mike Tirico, ESPN play-by-play announcer
Just hours before we kicked off our season on September 12 against Green Bay, my high school coach and mentor, Tommy Reamon, told me something profound: “Something is going to happen in this game, and your life is going to change forever.”
Right, I thought to myself. What are you talking about? I’m the backup quarterback. I’m No. 2. Whatcha think is going to happen? Think I’m going to score three touchdowns from the shotgun running a quarterback draw?
As expected, Kevin Kolb entered the season and the game as our starting quarterback. Honestly, I figured it would stay that way the whole season. I thought Kevin would thrive and do well. And as I said, I was back in the NFL—that was a start—and I was content.
Kevin, however, sustained a concussion on a hard hit by Packers linebacker Clay Matthews at the end of the first half and was sidelined. I never want to see someone get hurt—especially a teammate—no matter what position he plays and no matter what position I’m fighting for. I remember seeing Kevin on the ground, hoping and praying he’d go back into the game. I wasn’t prepared. The only package I had was the Wildcat. I had studied throughout the week, but I hadn’t studied thoroughly to the point of knowing the ins and outs of every concept. I was nervous because I didn’t want to go out and embarrass myself.
In the locker room at halftime, I remember one of my teammates—I think it was Juqua Parker—coming up to me. “The door has been opened for you,” he said. “Whatcha gonna do? You gonna go through it or walk away from it?”
Each and every play that game, I wasn’t trying to prove that I was back; I was just trying to win. I knew I had a shot to show everyone that I could still play the game. But I knew it was Kevin’s team. More than anything, I was trying to show the Philadelphia coaches, potential teams, and football fans that I could still play. Remember, I didn’t have a contract. I was auditioning for a potential job around the league.
We were down 20-3 that game, but we nearly pulled off a comeback win, losing to the eventual Super Bowl champions 27-20. I threw for 175 yards and a touchdown and ran for 103 yards on 11 carries.
I remember looking over at the Green Bay bench as I walked off the field that game. One more half, I said to myself. One more half, and we would’ve destroyed you guys.
After the game, I talked to Coach Reamon again, and he said, “I told you.”
The way he prophesied that—I couldn’t put it all together. I still don’t know what to think of it. But when he told me that before the game, I could hear it in his voice. He wasn’t just saying it. He was extremely adamant and passionate about what he was saying.
He was right.
Because Kevin wasn’t cleared by team doctors, he was also sidelined the following week against Detroit. And for the first time since my prison sentence—for the first time since the 2006 season—I was starting.
We were going up against the Detroit Lions. They had a tough defense, so I knew it would be a challenge, but I was excited because I had more time to prepare and had been studying all week.
Still, my mindset had nothing to do with making an epic return to the NFL. We were 0-1 after our loss to Green Bay, so I kept telling myself, We gotta win. We gotta win. It was all I was thinking. On a personal level, I knew this was still Kevin’s team; but if I played well, I might have a chance to earn a contract on another team. First and foremost, I needed to get the Eagles a victory.
Going into the game, however, was also bittersweet, because before every game I started in Atlanta, I had called my grandmother. I liked to check up on her and see how she was doing; and talking to someone I loved help take the pressure off me and put the game in its proper perspective. She calmed my nerves and helped me kick the butterflies.
Now, I didn’t have that. She was gone. To this day, nobody plays that role, although before the Detroit game, I did call my pastor and we talked.
I cried in my room. It was sad that I couldn’t share the moment with my grandmother.
I wish she could have seen that game. We beat Detroit 35-32, and I passed for 280-some yards. I did my job. As a backup quarterback, I helped get us the win, and improve our record to 1-1 for Kevin to take over the team for the remainder of the season.
I was on stage, and my phone kept vibrating in my pocket.
C’mon, I was thinking to myself. Is it that serious?
The week following our victory against Detroit, I was speaking to youth at a “What It Takes” event about the mistakes I’d made and the importance of making good choices. But my phone kept vibrating—over and over.
When I checked my phone, I had a text from Coach Reid saying, “Call me ASAP.”
I knew exactly what it was about. I knew he’d either tell me “You’ll start this week,” or “Kevin isn’t ready yet.”
I called Coach Reid.
He always starts phone conversations with a quick, “How ya doing?”
“Good,” I said.
Then there was a long, awkward pause.
“Look here,” he said, dragging the conversation out a little. “I’m gonna make you the starter.”
Coach Reid initially had said Kevin would remain the starter once he returned from injury, but then he changed his mind and named me the permanent starter.
I was amazed by the sudden change in my status. I was caught off guard because I had gotten so relaxed at being a backup that I started feeling like a backup.
I knew what it was like to be a starter in this league. I knew the pressure—what it takes and how much it can take out of you. And just like that—boom—I was back in that position. I was thinking, Hold on, I didn’t prepare for this. I’m not ready.
At Virginia Tech, I remember looking on that depth chart and seeing “Vick—No. 1.” I remember how proud I felt that I had fought and beat out Dave Meyer for the starting role. Being named the starter at Philly, however, was completely different.
There wasn’t a competition between Kevin and me, because I had accepted the backup role. Philadelphia was his team. And I could live with that.
Right when I hung up the phone, I knew I had to get my mind right. I called my counselor, who I met with regularly through the NFL.
“Man, we gotta talk,” he said after I gave him the news.
In order to perform week in and week out and be consistent, I had to approach each game correctly from a mental standpoint. I was excited. But I was also nervous. This was something I didn’t expect. It’s tough to play in Philly, and it’s easy to get booed on Sunday. Who wants to get booed with your family in the stands? I sure didn’t. All the ability in the world means nothing if you can’t think and play. I needed to sharpen my mind.
It was hard to wrap my mind around everything that was happening. It was happening so fast. Sitting in a cell in Leavenworth, I never doubted that I’d play in the NFL again. I knew I would get there, and I knew I could start at some point. I just couldn’t put a time frame on it.
The only thing I could go back to was that this was all God’s plan. There was a reason behind it, so I was going to enjoy it, because I knew He was with me every step of the way.
Things became even more unbelievable as the season wore on.
We beat Jacksonville 28-3 in Week 3. I was motivated before the game by our chapel service. The speaker talked about how Jesus made the great sacrifice of dying on the cross for our sins. I had already asked Jesus to forgive my sins and be the Lord of my life, but I was sitting there thinking, Man, all this for us? Why can’t I sacrifice for Him? I made a promise that day and thought to myself, I’m going to sacrifice for Him and try to do the right things on a day-to-day basis. Then I went out, and the Lord blessed me with a good game. I threw three touchdown passes and ran for another.
A few days later, my friend Arthur Blank—the owner of the Falcons—called to congratulate me and to talk, which meant a lot to me.
I was shocked that Mr. Blank called; but at the same time, I wasn’t. We’d had a great relationship in Atlanta; I just didn’t take advantage of everything he had to offer. He wanted nothing but the best for me, and he probably would have liked to play the role of a mentor in my life. But I didn’t want to continually come to him with questions and overstep my boundaries. As a man, I felt like I should be able to take care of myself and make my own decisions. But I was twenty-four or twenty-five. I wasn’t a man. I was a kid. Knowing what I do now, I would go back and confide in Mr. Blank more, and things would have never ended up the way they did. But it happened.
“Take advantage of the opportunity,” he told me on the phone that day. “Don’t lose sight of how you got into the position you’re in. I’m rooting for you every game until we play you.”
Next was a big Redskins-Eagles showdown in Philly. The game had more than enough storylines to make it the national game of the week. It was a homecoming for former Eagles quarterback and my good buddy Donovan McNabb. The McNabb-returns-to-Philly talk was big, and so was a McNabb-versus-Vick theme, since Donovan had played a key role in the Eagles signing me the previous year.
I really wanted to win that game. I hadn’t had too much success against Donovan; he and the Eagles beat us twice in the playoffs when I was with Atlanta.
The Redskins got off to a quick start, but we were in the midst of a rally when I suffered fractured ribs on a run near the goal line. I got sandwiched between two Washington defenders, including my former Atlanta teammate and friend, cornerback DeAngelo Hall. I had to leave the game, and the Redskins went on to win, 17-12.
I would miss three games because of the injury. And as disappointed as I was to miss out on the game against Donovan, I was more disappointed to miss the game against the Falcons. It was a game where Kevin led us to a 31-17 win.
Overall, we were 2-1 during the stretch while I was gone; Kevin did a very nice job. When I was healthy, Coach Reid put me back under center. I was still the starter.
I returned to the lineup for a November 7 matchup against Indianapolis, which was quarterbacked by Peyton Manning.
The Colts always seemed to be one of the best teams, so it was a huge confidence builder for us that we won 26-24. I threw one touchdown and ran for another.
It was great to have an opportunity to get out and play the game you love so dearly against some of the best competition. Going up against Peyton, I knew it was going to be a tough challenge, and I knew it would be a game that went down to the wire. We would have to do everything right.
We just put it all together against the Colts. And our locker room was absolutely crazy. Winning that game felt like we had won the Super Bowl.
The celebration was unique for a regular season game. Cornerback Asante Samuel and wide receiver DeSean Jackson were our primary cheerleaders.
Anytime you’re in a locker room after a win, it’s a dynamic atmosphere. It’s also a moment you have to cherish because you don’t get it that often. You have sixteen games minimum; it’s unlikely that you’ll win them all. The feeling only lasts for about thirty minutes, and then it’s over as far as being with the guys. But some wins are more special than others.
After that game, I remember telling myself for the first time, I’m back. I’m back to being the player I know I can be.
The next week—a November 15 Monday Night Football game at Washington—was when we got a second chance at Donovan and the Redskins. The pregame hype was intense.
Some of what will follow here is almost embarrassing for me to include, but my coauthors, publisher, and I believe we need to do so in order to best characterize the season and to make sure things are presented fully and accurately. One of the main reasons this is important is because God did amazing things in my life and career through the course of the season, and I want to make absolutely certain He is glorified. So please know that it is with humility and a desire for God to get the credit that I present these things to you.
Going into that Monday night game against the Redskins, I already had been named NFC Offensive Player of the Month for September and Offensive Player of the Week in early November. Even before kickoff, the ESPN announcers were raving on the telecast about my play up to that point. Steve Young, Ron Jaworski, and Jon Gruden all said I’d been playing better than ever.
Young is the former San Francisco 49ers star that I grew up emulating. Jaworski formerly starred at quarterback for Philadelphia, and Gruden coached at Oakland and Tampa Bay, winning a Super Bowl with the Buccaneers.
Young said on the pregame show: “Personally, this is the Michael Vick I dreamed of seeing when he came out of college. I used to talk to him and [say], ‘Look, if you can learn to throw the football from the pocket, and also use your legs outside the pocket when it’s time—if you can actually learn the quarterback job—you can be the greatest weapon at quarterback there has ever been in the NFL.’” It was big talk and seemed to border on excessive hype—but then the game started, and we got off to a roaring start.
On the first play, I threw an 88-yard touchdown pass to DeSean Jackson. It was the longest gain on an opening play in team history. I scored on a 7-yard run on our second possession, and we were ahead 28-0 after the first quarter—the biggest lead a road team has had after one quarter in NFL history.
ESPN play-by-play announcer Mike Tirico exulted: “I’ve never seen anything like this!” Gruden added, “This is just an unbelievable start by Michael Vick.”
Next up, I tossed a 48-yard touchdown pass to Jeremy Maclin on the first play of the second quarter to increase the lead to 35-0. Gruden would later say, “Mike could be the NFL Player of the Year right now. He could be the Player of the Decade.”
It is with gratitude to God, my coaches, and my teammates that I can tell you I became the first quarterback in NFL history to pass for more than 300 yards (333) and four touchdowns, plus rush for more than 50 yards (80) and two touchdowns on the ground in a single game. We had a runaway win that night, beating the Redskins 59-28.
By the end of the game, the Pro Football Hall of Fame was prompted to call, asking for the jersey I wore to be sent in for display in its Canton, Ohio, gallery.
Former NFL quarterback Trent Dilfer said on ESPN’s postgame show: “I don’t know what to say about the transformation of Michael Vick. I haven’t seen anything like this. There is a little bit of a panic mode setting in around the National Football League.”
Young added: “There are not enough words. Truly, you’re seeing something extraordinary here. This was what we talked about when he came out of college. It is what we thought was possible. It is so exciting to me. This performance shows you that at the position of quarterback, you can crush teams. [Michael] was unstoppable. You can talk about this in any superlative you want. This was one of the [best] games at quarterback I have ever seen.”
Gruden kiddingly gave me the nickname “Starship Seven,” a take on my jersey number. “Where he is now is a totally different place than Michael Vick has ever been,” he said.
Young predicted the performance would be my signature game: “This game will always be known as when Michael Vick was not just a highlight film, but actually dictated what happened in a football game.”
I tried to downplay all the fuss over my performance, but I must say that I’ve never had a game where I had so many stats. Everything was clicking on all cylinders for the entire team. The offensive line, running backs, and receivers all played great. You dream about having a game like that.
Yet I believed I could play even better.
You know how much Coach Dungy’s opinion means to me, so I was especially humbled when he said he believed I was throwing from the pocket as well as any quarterback in the NFL, including Tom Brady and Peyton Manning. He also said my running ability gave the Eagles a talent equivalent to Chicago’s Devin Hester in the backfield. Hester is a dynamic wide receiver and record-setting kick returner, so I consider that a tremendous compliment.
“You can’t play certain defenses against him,” Coach Dungy said of me. He also said my style of play most resembled two of my favorites—Steve Young and Randall Cunningham.
Interestingly, the 80 yards I gained on the ground against the Redskins made me the No. 2 rusher among quarterbacks in NFL history, surpassing Young. By the time the season was over, I had 4,630 career rushing yards. Now, I have more rushing yards than any other quarterback in NFL history.
One of the things I feel best about regarding the 2010 season is that I put in the extra time like I never did in Atlanta. I spent significant parts of Tuesdays—the players’ regular weekly day off—at the stadium, preparing for the upcoming game. Unlike my time with the Falcons, I tried to arrive early and stay late throughout the week.
I’m taking the game more seriously now. I realize I may only have five or six more good years left in me before I have to take a backup role somewhere or face possible retirement. The extra work has made a tremendous difference in my play.
I’m also evolving as a player as I get older. I know I can’t run around as much as I used to. So it’s good that in the offense I’m in now—the West Coast offense—there are opportunities to get the ball out quickly. There are more options, and there’s a lot of young talent around me—guys like DeSean Jackson, Jeremy Maclin, our running back LeSean McCoy, and our tight end Brent Celek. Those guys are amazing! So instead of using my legs all the time, I only use them when I need to. As time goes on, I think I’ll run even less. But I’ll still run when I have to.
It’s been said that I can’t be a great quarterback without using my legs a lot. It’s one of the reasons I play the game—to prove those people wrong, to prove to all the naysayers who claim I can’t throw the football or that a quarterback with my type of abilities will never win a Super Bowl, that they are wrong.
One of the big benefits for me here in Philly is that I’m extremely blessed to have some of the best, most experienced offensive coaches in the game in Andy Reid and Marty Mornhinweg, our offensive coordinator. They’ve coached quarterbacks like Brett Favre and my idol, Steve Young.
Even the backups who have played for Coach Reid and Coach Mornhinweg have played well when called upon. It just goes to show that the system they run is great, and they do an excellent job of game planning.
They’ve helped me get better in so many ways. Just evolving as a quarterback is probably the biggest thing, making sure I do all the things a quarterback is required to do. Marty is always talking about Steve. He’ll say, “When I had Steve Young, we used to do it this way.” I was humbled after the season to see Marty quoted as saying he thought I had a chance to be even better than Steve.
The Monday Night Football performance against the Redskins seemed to further launch our team and me into the national consciousness. Suddenly, there were moral issues being debated: Did my play trump the past mistakes I’d made? Did I deserve to be forgiven? The issues would remain in the media for the rest of the season.
NFL commissioner Roger Goodell, the man who suspended and reinstated me, was among many to step forward with support. He did so immediately after the Redskins game. “There is a big message in what Michael is doing,” the commissioner told the New York Daily News. “He’s a superstar athlete who everyone thought had everything in the world. He fell from grace tragically by making some horrific mistakes, paid a significant price, worked his way back in and now he’s being successful. It demonstrates to me [the need] to get to these young men earlier and work with them and make them understand their responsibility, making decisions that will define them for a period of time.”
“There are so many examples in our society of failure, people falling short,” Goodell added. “We need more success stories. I’m hoping Michael Vick will be a success story. People need to see that. People need to be inspired by that—a person made a tragic error and he’s overcome it.”
Those words meant a lot because I have such a special relationship with Commissioner Goodell and I’m committed to making him proud of me. He has become a bit of a father figure, friend, and mentor. During the season, we were talking or texting at least once a week. I can pick up the phone and call him anytime I’m having a problem. He has continued to advise me on having good people around me and making sure I’m making rational decisions on a day-to-day basis because I’m being watched each and every day. There are people out there who don’t want to see me excel. They want to see me fail.
A flurry of articles ensued, delving into my background and the topic of forgiveness, like the one in Sports Illustrated that asked whether or not it was okay to cheer for me. Or the one in the New York Times quoting John Lord, a professor and chairman of the marketing department at Philadelphia’s St. Joseph’s University, who reasoned that it was okay “to forgive and forget because that seems to be where the momentum is going.”
Writers who covered me—and some who didn’t—began to explore questions usually reserved for pastors and philosophers. Sam Donnellon, a columnist for the Philadelphia Daily News, agreed that it was okay for people to get second chances, but he questioned whether or not it was too soon for that to happen in my case.
It had been more than three years since I had been convicted and sent to prison, but people still wondered if it had been long enough. The season before, when I was sitting on the bench, not much was being said or written. But once I began having success, people began weighing in.
Through nine games, we were 6-3—tied for first with the New York Giants in the NFC East Division.
The next game, on November 21, was huge—at home against the Giants. With seven games remaining, and two of those against each other, playoff positioning and winning the division were foremost on our minds.
We beat the Giants 27-17 to take sole possession of first place in the division with a 7-3 record.
Increasingly in interviews, I was getting asked more about life than football. After a game, a reporter asked me if I was at peace because everything was going well for me. I said I was at peace the season before, even when I was on the bench, and that I was just happy to be playing football.
I doubt that’s the answer he expected.
One thing I’ve noticed is that reporters are going to be reporters. Their job is to make a story sound good or to make a story sound extremely bad. You just have to anticipate both good and bad questions and know how you’re going to respond.
Judges generally don’t talk about football players, but the 2010 season was an exception. Much to my amazement, the man who sentenced me in 2007 spoke out publicly to compliment me.
In early December, the Washington Post was working on a story about the legal challenges to the health-care law and interviewed Judge Henry Hudson, who was hearing the case. While they were asking him about that, they also asked him about my on-field success and off-field progress. “He’s an example of how the system can work,” Judge Hudson said of me. “He’s having a terrific season. I’m very happy for him. I wish him the best of success.”
It meant a lot coming from him.
He made a decision in my life that was pivotal, at a time in my life when nothing really mattered to me. He was probably the only one who thought that a twenty-three-month prison sentence was what I needed to get my life turned around. To see what he said in the paper was gratifying since it demonstrated that I was changing the minds of people who once felt differently about me. It definitely showed me that I was on the right track and doing the right things.
When I first got sentenced, I felt like it was a harsh punishment, but I also had to think about the things that transpired during my pretrial release period. I wasn’t respectful to the courts; I wasn’t respectful to the public. Judge Hudson knew why he put me in prison for that long, and it’s great for him to see me come out and have success, knowing that he did it for a reason. I commend him for that, and I’ll continue to make him proud.
It’s just the beginning. It won’t stop here. I’ll have to continue to make great strides.
Judge Hudson was the first of several high-profile people who would comment on how a second chance had helped me and what they thought about it. In between, though, I was still playing football and trying to help the Eagles secure a playoff berth and, hopefully, a Super Bowl title.
After a win over Dallas, we had another signature game.
On December 19, at the Giants’ new stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey (the Meadowlands), we trailed 31-10 with seven and a half minutes remaining, and came from behind to win 38-31. Like any other game, we went into that one thinking we were going to win, but obviously, when you fall that far behind, there is a sense of doubt and you start thinking ahead to next week.
I’ll never forget that game, though. DeSean Jackson and I were on the sidelines talking, and he was kind of discouraged. I encouraged him to stay in the game and stay focused and keep fighting. I told him that, regardless of anything else that happened, we were going to leave there with some pride and some dignity about ourselves and be able to say we gave it everything we had. Right after that, we scored a touchdown on our next possession. Then a second and a third and a fourth followed and, before you knew it, we had won the game.
DeSean came up with the game-winning punt return for a touchdown as time expired. It was like a walk-off grand slam home run to win the game. It was amazing! I just couldn’t believe it happened the way it did.
I was blessed to throw three touchdown passes in the game, and to run for 130 yards and another score. Fox TV announcer Jimmy Johnson was among those who felt I was a leading candidate for the MVP award, which eventually—and deservedly—went to Tom Brady.
The win over the Giants essentially clinched the NFC East for us. It was called a “comeback for the ages” and was dubbed “the New Miracle at the New Meadowlands.” At the old Giants Stadium, the Eagles had beaten the Giants 19-17 in November 1978, in a game called simply “the Miracle at the Meadowlands.” In that one, Philadelphia scored a touchdown on a bizarre fumble return to win. This win seemed just as unlikely as that one.
We were 10-4; we owned the tiebreaker for the division title over the Giants because we had won both games against them; and things seemed good.
Just before our next game, a report by Sports Illustrated writer and NBC broadcaster Peter King opened up a firestorm. King reported that President Barack Obama had called Eagles owner Jeffrey Lurie to discuss alternative energy that he was pushing for at Lincoln Financial Field, and my name came up in the conversation.
Mr. Lurie told King: “The president said, ‘So many people who serve time never get a fair second chance.’ He was passionate about it. He said it’s never a level playing field for prisoners when they get out of jail. And he was happy that we did something on such a national stage that showed our faith in giving someone a second chance after such a major downfall.”
I was just ecstatic when I heard that. After all, it’s the president of the United States, and it doesn’t get any better than that. I was very surprised he would mention my name.
I was so grateful to have such a prominent person commend me in front of the entire world about everything that I had worked for and tried to accomplish. It kind of showed that I was on the right track and I was doing the right thing. I hope those comments reverberated around the world to people who are trying to make a comeback and have been given a second chance—to those who are trying to do things right the second time around.
A lot of people don’t get that opportunity. I was one of the ones who did, and I’m thankful and blessed. For those comments to come from President Obama was big. For a lot of kids who come from broken families, or who may not be as confident or as fortunate as others, those comments will convince them to strive harder in what they’re trying to do in life. If they feel they’re not making progress, or if they have been in some trouble and they’re trying to climb out of the hole they dug for themselves, knowing that someone believes they’re able to do it gives them a sense of hope.
Though the phone conversation really didn’t have anything to do with me, I think the statement shows how strongly the president feels about people getting second chances. Obviously he does, or he wouldn’t have said it.
President Obama’s comments didn’t sit well with everyone, though. The whole issue became very political and polarizing. Feedback from a wide range of commentators—conservative and liberal—showed that people thought prison, bankruptcy, and more than three years of being removed from a bad situation wasn’t enough.
The most prominent critic was Fox News commentator Tucker Carlson, who was hosting a panel on December 28, 2010, the same night we played the Minnesota Vikings. He was filling in for conservative talk-show host Sean Hannity. Carlson said I should have been “executed” for what I did to dogs.
Carlson said he was a Christian, that he had made mistakes, and that he fervently believes in second chances—but not in my case. “Michael Vick killed dogs, and he did it in a heartless and cruel way,” Carlson said on the air. “I think, personally, he should’ve been executed for that…. The idea that the president of the United States would be getting behind someone who murdered dogs [is] kind of beyond the pale.”
“I’m all for forgiveness,” Carlson continued. “[But] I think there are some things that are unforgivable, and Michael Vick did one of those things in hurting dogs. However, why is the president weighing in on this?”
The fact that Carlson would make such an emotionally charged statement showed the depths to which the subject had affected people.
Carlson didn’t have everyone’s support. Doug Schoen, a Fox News contributor on the show, felt differently.
“Bottom line, he did a horrific thing,” Schoen said. “He paid; he went to jail; he is speaking for the Humane Society … he has turned his life around. The Humane Society has said even Michael Vick may well be able to have a dog at some point in the future, and the president acknowledged that this is a country of second chances with a high-profile felon who has acknowledged his foibles. And, you know what? The president was right to make this point, because it’s a metaphor, Tucker.”
After being interrupted, Schoen said, “This is about redemption, not a policy decision you don’t like…. At Christmas[time], to talk about redemption is not the worst thing in the world, Tucker.”
I stayed out of the whole issue and didn’t respond. But I can tell you now that I was stunned by what Carlson said. When I first heard it, I was like, Wow! I mean, wishing death on another person? I think for me not to respond at the time was the best decision, because it’s foolish and irrelevant when someone says things like that. But the statement put me in the position to do what I’ve been talking about—to forgive someone.
I forgave him when he said it, but some people won’t forgive you when they feel like you’ve done something wrong. Everybody’s heart isn’t the same; everybody doesn’t think alike. Some people forgive, some people don’t. I think people let their emotions get the best of them in situations, and their true inner feelings may show.
After a huge backlash, Tucker later apologized and said he got “too emotional” and that he “overspoke.” He said he was “uncomfortable with the death penalty in any circumstance. Of course I don’t think [Michael Vick] should be executed.” I appreciated that.
One of the things that really blessed me was receiving support from People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA). Previously, PETA had not shown the same support for me that the Humane Society of the United States demonstrated. Ingrid E. Newkirk, the president of PETA, told Washington Post reporter Perry Bacon Jr. that Obama’s comments concerning my getting a second chance after spending time in prison were “appropriate.”
“Obama’s a sports guy, Vick’s a sports guy, and comebacks and redemption can happen,” Newkirk told Bacon. “We all want a president who can lift us up and move us forward when ugly things happen, but that cannot let us forget … [we must] remain watchful to avoid future abuses.”
While all of this was going on, my teammates and I focused on the two games we had remaining. A major winter storm caused our Sunday night, December 26, home game against Minnesota to be delayed by two days. It caused quite a controversy in Philadelphia, where fans are accustomed to attending games in extremely inclement weather.
We scored first against the Vikings but went on to lose 24-14. Nevertheless, we clinched the division championship and were locked in as the No. 3 seed in the NFC. Several starters, including me, were held out of the final game of the season on January 2 at home against Dallas, mainly because we couldn’t improve our playoff seed. It was done as a safety precaution and also to give us time to rest up for the postseason. Dallas won 14-13 on a touchdown with less than a minute remaining, and we finished the regular season 10-6.
Our goal all along had been to reach and win the Super Bowl, so we excitedly approached the start of the playoffs. But our dream season ended when the No. 6-seeded Green Bay Packers, who would go on to win the Super Bowl, beat us 21-16 at Lincoln Financial Field. It was our third consecutive loss at home, which is tough to even think about now.
I passed for 292 yards and a touchdown and scored a touchdown on a 1-yard run with 4:02 remaining to bring us to within five points of the Packers. We were driving for a possible come-from-behind win, but I was intercepted in the end zone with forty-four seconds left.
It was very disappointing not to advance in the playoffs, but the further away we get from that game, the more we’ll appreciate the fact that we had a really good season. Our season began and ended with losses to the eventual Super Bowl championship team, and a lot of exciting things happened in between—things that gave us a lot to build on as we look ahead to the future.
Our offense ranked third in the league in scoring with 439 points. And I finished 2010 with the best season of my career.
God deserves all the glory. I set career highs in passing yards (3,018), touchdown passes (21), rushing touchdowns (9), completion percentage (62.6), and passer rating (100.2). It was the first time I had thrown for more than 3,000 yards in a season, and it happened despite playing, basically, eleven games. I missed three games with injuries, was held out of the season finale to rest, didn’t play most of the first half in the season opener until Kevin Kolb was injured, and didn’t play in the second half of our first game against Washington because of injured ribs. When you put it all together, that’s about eleven games for me.
One of the ways I was encouraged and supported by the fans was through the Pro Bowl balloting, which ended the day after we beat the Giants. Given everything I’d been through, I truly experienced grace in how they voted for me. I wound up second in the league in votes and was the top NFC player.
Tom Brady had 1,877,079 votes to my 1,522,437. It meant a lot that fans were able to overlook my past and focus on the present. I wanted to perform well for them because they had been behind me during some trying times. I also wanted to prove to others that I could still play at a high level even after being gone from the game for so long.
I think the fans respect what I’ve been through and how I’ve come back from it. I missed some of the best years of my football life: from the ages of twenty-seven to twenty-nine, I didn’t play. I missed the game. When I returned, I was more motivated so that I could be in the top echelon and be a part of that great group with Tom Brady, Peyton Manning, Drew Brees, and Aaron Rodgers. You know, there are a lot of great quarterbacks in the league, and I feel I’m one of the best, and I just wanted to show it.
It was good going back to the Pro Bowl for the fourth time. It was really cool that the man who replaced me as the Falcons quarterback, Matt Ryan, was there, and that the Atlanta coaches were the coaches for the NFC team.
I had hoped to be busily working with the Eagles during Super Bowl week in the Dallas area, but our efforts fell short. However, I still went to Texas to be involved in many events during the week. And though I had stayed clear of any trouble during the season, some seemed to find me in Dallas.
Several pre-Super Bowl parties used my name without my permission. Roger Goodell and others didn’t want me involved in the party scene surrounding the game, and I assured them that I wouldn’t be. This was a situation I needed to clear up, and I did. It was a chance to show consistency of character, and I was proud to be above reproach in that situation. Like I said, I was in Dallas for more important things.
While there, I had the opportunity to speak to teenagers at an area school. As always, it felt good to share my story with them, and hopefully I provided some hope and inspiration. When the event was over, a Dallas radio reporter, Richard Hunter of KFXR-AM 1190, tried to talk to me as security was ushering me away. Hunter said he had adopted one of my former dogs and he wanted to show me a picture of it and ask how I felt about the matter. Some media outlets called Hunter’s attempt at an unscheduled interview an “ambush” and said that Hunter “harassed” me and “crossed the line” since the security people with me repeatedly told him that we had to leave. Angered that he didn’t get the interview, Hunter released a video with written commentary regarding the incident. He seemed upset that I didn’t give him the time he apparently wanted.
I understood the situation: He adopted one of the dogs. Here was a guy who cared. He was very fortunate because, obviously, he got a good dog and gave him a home. Now he has one of man’s best friends, and he should be happy about that. I am not really sure what he expected or wanted from me. I know I didn’t brush him off, though. I told him it was a good thing he did, and I kept going.
The criticism I took for my past wasn’t limited to media members. During the beginning of Major League Baseball’s spring training in February, Chicago White Sox pitcher Mark Buehrle jumped in the fray. Buehrle, known for pitching a no-hitter in 2007 and a perfect game in 2009, said he and his wife were dog lovers, and that while they watched NFL games in 2010, they were hoping I’d get injured. When given the chance to retract the statements, he didn’t back down.
I feel bad for people like that because they’re so worried about me. You know, I don’t even know who the guy is. If Buehrle walked right past me in the local 7-Eleven, I wouldn’t know it was him. But for him to make that type of comment, it’s something he has to live with. Don’t wish bad things on others.
In the midst of all this controversy, I was awarded the NFL Comeback Player of the Year and the Bert Bell Award, an award that was established in 1959 and is given by the Maxwell Football Club in recognition of the best professional football player in America each year. Both awards were humbling, and I felt extremely honored to be esteemed in such a way. In some respect, it was evidence and proof of what hard work and being committed to the proper priorities can help someone achieve.
The Eagles recognized that too, and they chose to put their franchise tag on me during the initial free-agency period. It meant I would get paid a 2011 salary at the average of the five highest-paid quarterbacks in 2010—about $20 million, a significant raise from the $5.2 million salary I had made in 2010. It was a lot of money, but I still have millions to repay to creditors as part of my bankruptcy settlement.
In the fall of 2011 I signed a new long-term contract, a five-year, $80 million deal with $35.5 million guaranteed. One of my friends called me afterward. “Boy, you better say a prayer,” he said. “God really loves you. There’s something about you.”
I never imagined making that type of money again. Sitting in prison, I knew I’d play again. But financially, I didn’t think I’d ever see money like that. I figured I’d have a couple of one-year deals and maybe a three-year deal but never imagined making $80 million. I just wanted to earn enough to pay off my creditors and support my family for the rest of our lives.
At the press conference for my contract, I was just humbled to be a part of the Eagles organization. They will forever hold a dear place in my heart because of the opportunity they gave me. Words can’t explain how I feel about them. They believed in me, took a chance on me—and I was determined to give back to them. Ultimately, I knew it came from God—putting me in Philly, placing me around great coaches who care about me on and off the field.
In the first couple of months after the season ended, I received my first paid endorsements since getting out of prison. The first came in February and was a two-year deal with Unequal Technologies, which supplied me with a vest, shoulder pads, and thigh pads during the season. Later, in March, I signed a deal with Core Synergy to endorse titanium-based wristbands, which help hold a positive charge and can reverse pain in the body caused by negative energy fields. Then, in July, I signed again with Nike, the sports apparel company that had cut ties with me about four years earlier. The same month, I also signed with MusclePharm, a nutritional supplement company.
In April, I was a finalist, along with Cleveland Browns running back Peyton Hillis, to be on the cover of the EA Sports Madden NFL ’12 video game. Peyton ended up winning. If I had won, I would have become the first player to appear on the cover twice. Instead, Peyton became the first Cleveland Browns player on the cover. It was special to see Peyton accept the honor and thank the fans for voting for him when he announced his team’s first-round pick during the 2011 NFL draft.
I was so happy for the fan vote too. Even though I didn’t win, it let me know that there are fans who are standing behind me and who believe in me. Things happen for a reason, and if I’m not on the cover, it’s for a reason. I never question what God has in store for my life.
Around that same time, another game—Dog Wars by Kage Games—was released. Designed to run on Google Inc.’s Android software, it glorified dogfighting. I tried to be proactive and immediately issued a statement opposing it. The statement, released on the Humane Society’s website, said: “I’ve come to learn the hard way that dogfighting is a dead-end street. Now I am on the right side of this issue, and I think it’s important to send the smart message to kids, and not glorify this form of animal cruelty, even in an Android app.”
It was another step on my journey toward healing and redemption. I now look ahead to all that God has in store for my life.