Michael Vick’s Pay Cut

Our economy is not the strongest that much is clear. Perhaps no one has taken a bigger pay cut in the last couple of years than former Atlanta Falcons QB Michael Vick.

Granted, his “pay cut” was due to a rash of bad decisions he made which subsequently landed him in the clink.

According to this story, “Vick wants to play, but what team would risk it?”,

In 2006 [Vick] made nearly $15 million. Recently he reported total income of $12.89 for an entire month.

That’s $12.89 as in 12 dollars and 89 cents. This from someone who, before things went terribly bad, categorized a $1,000 check to his mother as “chump change.”

Guau… Provided my math is correct, that is a 97,000% pay cut. Ouch!

Here’s Vick making $7211/hr.

michael-vickStreeter Lecka / Getty Images

Here is an excerpt from Vick’s statement after pleading guilty to dogfighting charges,

I’m upset with myself, and, you know, through this situation I found Jesus and asked him for forgiveness and turned my life over to God. And I think that’s the right thing to do as of right now.

Here’s hoping that during his time in prison was spent fruitfully in nurturing the relationship he claims to have found, though to be sure it is Jesus who found him and not the other way around.

As for his return to the NFL, why not? It’s not like dog fighting is the unforgivable sin

A non-dog lover’s soft spot for Chows


I don’t like dogs. I said it, it had to be said, somebody had to say it. Perhaps that statement puts me in many people’s em, doghouse, but I have my reasons.

Hopefully, said people don’t equate me with Michael Vick (at worst) or think that I somehow applaud Vick’s deplorable actions (at best).

That being said, if a dog were to actually be brought into our house as a pet, it would be a chow (the chow above participated in the 2008 Westminster Dog Show). Why? I have always liked chows, perhaps because they don’t look like dogs, or maybe its their cool purple tongues.

More than likely it is due to the efforts of a chow named Sebastian who lived next door to my folks’ house. This furry fellow would patrol our street tirelessly with class and aplomb. When his owner would come over for a visit, he would escort her to our front door as an equal not some impotent and spineless em, lapdog.

When I would come home, he would greet me with a curt and majestic nod as he regally sat in his pet’s front yard (Sebastian was the owner). Thanks Sebastian for the memories and for representing your species well, if you could only teach other dogs (not to mention some owners) to do the same.