Michael Vick, former Atlanta Falcons quarterback and current poster child for all that is wrong with the world, was sentenced to 23 months in federal prison Monday for running a dog fighting ring and executing several dogs on his rural Virginia property.
Accompanying Vick’s sentence, which was five months longer than the maximum length prosecutors recommended, was the usual media uproar.
It ran the spectrum from those who wanted Vick to spend the better part of the next two years locked in a 3×3-foot cage with a really pissed Doberman to those who just wanted it to be a mildly annoyed Doberman.
Now do I agree with the sentence? Sure. The guy has repeatedly said he regrets his bad judgment. Me taking the Panthers and the points on Sunday, that was bad judgment. Electrocuting dogs that don’t perform well, man, that’s just sick.
He deserves everything he gets.
But while the football-crazy public is getting themselves overheated, calling upon the NFL to continue Vick’s punishment with a lengthy suspension after he gets out and words like ‘lifetime ban’ are being thrown around, my mind can’t help but think about Susan Gutweiler.
Who is Susan Gutweiler?
On the night of Oct. 19, 1998 St. Louis Rams defensive lineman Leonard Little celebrated his 24th birthday.
Little got drunk.
He decided to drive.
He ran a red light.
He slammed his car into Gutweiler’s.
The 47-year old mother died the next day.
Little, who had a blood-alcohol level more than twice Missouri’s legal limit, was convicted of manslaughter and spent 90 days in jail. The NFL weighed in, suspending him for eight games.
He returned midway through the 1999 season, amid protests by anti-drunken driving advocacy groups. The protests eventually died down and Little became a productive member of the Rams’ defense, helping the franchise to its lone Super Bowl title.
Three years after Gutweiler’s death, he signed a contract with the Rams worth $17.6 million.
In 2004 Little’s Mercedes was stopped in a neighboring county going 78 mph in a 55 mph zone. He failed three field sobriety tests.
He dodged that DUI charge when his attorneys attacked the procedures of the arresting officers. He was convicted of speeding and got two years of probation.
Little’s contract with the Rams was extended in 2006. He’s battled injuries this season but has recorded 19 tackles and a sack.
That’s it. Ninety days in jail. Eight games. Meanwhile Susan Gutweiler’s husband Bill, is a widow and judging from his second arrest, Little didn’t learn a thing.
I watched a Rams’ game earlier this year in which Little played. He did some good things. The Rams’ fans cheered. The announcers praised the 10-year league vet.
No mention of Susan Gutweiler.
Meanwhile, her son Mike, who was 15 when Gutweiler died, will celebrate another holiday season this month without a hug, a conversation or a home-cooked meal from his mother.
What does this have to do with Michael Vick? Nothing.
Vick won’t get out of prison until the summer of 2009 at the earliest. He has lost untold millions in endorsement money. The Falcons are trying to recoup the millions they paid him.
Twenty-three months after Gutweiler’s death, Little was starting for the reigning Super Bowl champs.
The NFL, with is shield logo, Clint Eastwood-commissioner Roger Goddell and rabid fans, needs to keep that in mind when it thinks about any post-prison discipline for Vick.
If it doesn’t, it runs the risk of the crime of hypocrisy.
Wait, hypocrisy in pro sports?
Yeah, I know.
