The Big Sharkey Show
Ding-dong, boys and girls! Welcome back to The Big Sharkey Show, your only source for entertainment and sports.
For my first dip back into the deep end, I’d like to gnaw on about a very important man in this city: Michael Vick. With the ink of his new six year, $100 million (40 guaranteed) contract still drying, it’s time to set some things straight.
I, like many of you adults, am a very avid fan of Vick. His career high passing and rushing numbers last year alone for the Birds have garnered him the big bucks and respect of the league. He is poised to give this football-rabid town what it’s been waiting for, deservedly, for decades: a Super Bowl title. Vick is an Eagle tried and true, with a blue-collar work ethic and a subtle hint of humility in his tone, yet there are still those who continue to harp on about—what else—the dog fighting shit.
Some of the talk is beyond ridiculous. “I hope his spine snaps on the field for what he did to those defenseless dogs!”; “He doesn’t deserve a job or his freedom!”; “He’s never allowed to set foot in my doggy bakery!”
Let me put it bluntly: Get the fuck over it. That’s right, everybody. Get. The. Fuck. Over it.
Can we stop fucking around here? Real talk: He killed vicious and useless attack dogs. He wasn’t giving Lassie or Buck Bundy the ramrod, he was fighting and killing pit bulls. Pit bulls bred to fight . Pit bulls who were bred to be beasts that no whining yuppy or activist with even the biggest problem with Mayor Vick would ever dare adopt.
I’m not saying that inflicting suffering onto any living creature is justifiable or can be condoned in any way, but I’m not going to pine over or dwell on it. But, you’ve heard this before: It happened, he went to Leavenworth, he got out and has rebuilt his career from the ground up. He took everything on the chin, made no excuses for himself. Move on.
I know this question has been posed a few billion times, but should we hold football players on that high a moral totem? Lest you forget, these guys are hired thugs who play a violent and beautiful sport. They’re not teachers or congressmen. They don’t have any sway over how your shitty life is or isn’t. Who gives a fuck how unsavory they are? It’s the NFL: We want winners, not altar boys.
I want more criminals to play football. Give the offensive line chloroform soaked rags and then see how well they protect your QB. Make it legal to choke-out referees. If we’re gonna do this shit, then let’s do this shit .
Have any of you actually watched what Michael Vick did on the field last year? That motherfucker was electrifying ! You should be pumped to have him playing in Our City for Your Team because he really could take our title-hungry franchise on a float down Broad Street. He’s as physical and athletic as any quarterback we’ve seen in years.
And that’s what this really comes down to. I love what Vick does for my football team, but I’m mostly just exhausted by all the ninnies who still actually give a fuck about his past discretions. It’s all your whiny posturing that leads me to say hyperbolic and antagonistic shit to harmless parents at kids’ birthday parties—“Michael Vick can kill every dog on earth if he wins Philadelphia a Super Bowl.” It’s just my nature, I guess.
Until next week, Followers. Fuck New York and go buy a Michael Vick jersey! It’s time to let it go and enjoy the season. “Love everyone” is my motto.
John Sharkey III is a notorious Philadelphia Asshole. The views expressed in TBSS are his own.
Now that the turd that was the 2011 Philaldelphia Phillies season has had ample time to settle at the bottom of the outhouse, I think it’s time to give my full Sixpence None the Richer on the whole bullshit situation.
Savage Love: Sondheim is solace