Ten years ago when I was still living in the West Side of Manhattan, where expensive condos are interspersed with gang occupied low income projects, I would sometimes walk my little Westie along Amsterdam Avenue near Lincoln Center. Occasionally, I would pass a guy with a bulked up pit bull on his leash. The appearance of the dog, the man's bearing and dress, all conveyed a clear message, that of menace. I pulled Chumley, all twenty five pounds of him, a bit closer, looked straight ahead and kept walking, knowing that if the dog attacked him, there would be nothing I could do.
The Washington Post had this excellent article yesterday that described Vick's operation as being a different part of the dog fighting culture of the man I described
Yet to animal-welfare workers, the ugly particulars were far from surprising. They said the dogfighting subculture is deeply entrenched in the United States. And in that shadowy realm, they said, the sort of business allegedly conducted on property owned by Vick in rural Surry County, Va., has been going on for generations, especially in the rural South.
American Staffordshire Terriers are brutalized until centuries of domestication are replaced by something quite different. They are shaped to become canine killing machines with the capacity to do grievous harm to humans as well as other dogs. The article describes the culture that fosters the dogs I passed on the street:
Authorities say the pit bull fighting subculture encompasses not only dog men with their training kennels and scheduled matches; it also includes less organized dogfighting that frequently takes place in poor urban neighborhoods....
Although in both types of fighting the dogs maul each other in a frenzy of blood and saliva, inner-city fights usually are spontaneous. One gang member strutting with his nasty pit bull sees another, egos swell, and soon they're in a vacant building, the dogs ripping into each other while still on leash chains. "Street fighting," these impromptu bouts are called.
I cannot feel anger at Michael Vick. Why do I feel that what he has done, and our reaction to it, says more about us then him. Let me try work through this in this diary:
Brought up in Jim Crow Washington D.C., I have racism indelibly imprinted in my soul. No pride, no shame, no excuses, It's who I am. When I defended Rush Limbaugh for his satire of Al Sharpton, I knew the difference between political satire, which that was, and gratuitous racial stereotyping, which he was accused of. So I defended Limbaugh's right to satirize anyone, including someone who is black.
Now, I see that the NAACP is asking for Vick to be allowed to return to his sport after he serves his time. I started this essay several days ago when Vick wasn't getting support from anyone, so the NAACP's position is something that I firmly endorse, for my own reasons which I will explain as you read on.
Vick is one of the lucky few who parlayed exceptional athletic skill into a fortune as a sports celebrity. He was a model for the kids who saw his life as validation that sports was a viable avenue to fame and fortune. How's this for a thought: he was more harmful in perpetuating this illusion before being exposed for his dog fighting activities.
When you consider the odds, and the cost in life destroying injuries among football players, it is a hollow promise for those who aspire to sports celebrity. Like professional boxing, professional football takes a terrible physical toll on the brain and other parts of the body. After a short career, there is often a lifetime of pain usually leading to a shortened life span. And I'm talking about those who make it, who achieve their goal of playing for the NFL.
So, Vick's hero image is fractured, and he is now seen as someone who inflicts violence on others without any sense of remorse. Hmmm. Isn't that what football is about? And how about another type of damage that is more insidious but probably does much more harm to kids who follow the sport, which is the increase in weight of linemen. Yeah, the average has gone up some fifty pounds in the last few decades, with the message to all of those kids who revere these men, that being big, really big, is something that can pay off. Extra weight gives you more clout, more punch, more ability to inflict pain when you clash with your opponent.
This is something that the NFL could end with a simple rule change, placing a maximum average weight on the team. And it could even be start with what now exists, so the disruption would be nil. But those who make the big money on the game, the owners, advertisers and financiers couldn't care less about the social consequences of their manufactured role model linemen. Nor do they care about the physical injury of the massive players repeatedly crashing into each other, any more than Vick cared about the well being of his dogs.
They have tapped a gold mine in packaging the controlled violence of professional football, and feeding it, and its values to the American public. And they won't do anything that might interject some acknowledgment that what happens between the goal posts affects our society. So an article like thisthat describes the long term depression, heart disease and joint pain of oversize football players is ignored.
As the great football coach Vince Lombardi said to universal acclaim, "Winning isn't the main thing, it's the only thing." So if this is the rule for humans just why can't this also work for dogs. "Winning" is such a powerful metaphor that it negates the details of what victory entails. So grown men, actually those men who are at the highest level of our government, of the military, the congress and the President, can talk about the clash of tribes, religion and ethnicity, the caldron of suffering initiated by our country, and reduce it the need to "win." Yes, if we don't "win" the Iraq war then, then.... we will lose, which is not acceptable, just like in a football game-or a dog fight.
Michael Vick is an All American, of this America more than any other time. He may have to go to jail, but surely he deserves the Medal of Freedom every bit as much as Donald Rumsfeld, L. Paul Bremer and the rest of the cast of characters who lead our country into our international arena of violence. Vick brutally wantonly and without empathy killed a hundred dogs, while these men destroyed the lives of hundreds of thousands of humans.
Vick is a product of our culture, in fact, he epitomizes it. He is a criminal because he picked the wrong species to torment. Pigs, chickens, and, of course, humans would have been just fine; but not man's best friend.
So he must pay for his mistake. But, let's not get too much satisfaction out of his punishment, since he is also the victim of a larger injustice, that most of us quietly condone every day of our lives.