Michael Vick: Stupid Ass.

stu-pid |ˈst(y)oōpid| adj

1. Lacking intelligence or common sense.
2. Dazed and unable to think clearly

Synonyms: Foolish, Asinine, Obtuse, Unintelligent, Dumb

Example: Michael Vick.

<Sigh> When will these dudes get it? When?! What will it take to make professional athletes realize that the big 10-inch-high numbers on the backs of their jerseys are not to identify them to the fans, but to serve as targets for prosecutors building their careers? When will they learn that every misstep they make will be chronicled in excruciating detail by the press, paid and amateur?

And when will they FINALLY learn that you have to be a real STUPID ASS to do something to sacrifice (in my best Austin Powers'-style Dr. Evil-esque voice) $130 million dollars?

Apparently, this is the object lesson that will haunt young Michael Vick, (former) starting quarterback for the Atlanta Falcons, who today, agreed to plead guilty to Federal charges related to his ongoing involvement with dogfighting in his native Virginia. Pursuant to the plea agreement and federal sentencing guidelines, Vick may face between 12 to 18 months in a federal prison, that of course, being at the discretion of a federal judge. Oh, and the kicker is, the judge could decide to ignore the recommendation, and sentence Vick to more jail-time. If Vick gets a judge that is a PETA member, or just a person that loves dogs and wants to send a message, Vick could go away for upwards of 5 years. Damn.

Now, I could really care less about the dog fighting. Hell, Asians eat dog, and many Arab cultures treat them like vermin, so I'm not going to get all anthropomorphically teary-eyed about Spike and Fido fighting in the pit. But I do care about people literally pissing away their good fortune.

So, let's do the math:

You're a highly respected NFL star. You signed a league-best 10-year deal in '05 worth an estimated $130 million (median annual household income in the United States: $44,334 - US Census, 2000), that guarantees you an NFL-record $37 million in bonuses (i.e. you get paid more loot just to show up and do your damn job) . You're a bona-fide star able to do and see places and things that the rest of can only fantasize about. You live on several acres of land in Virginia. In short, you're the embodiment of someone's dream.

But then...

You've been involved in dogfighting for some time, since at least 2000. You're a "heavyweight," waving around as much as $5,000 at fights, bringing dogs you've bred and providing action for the betting crowd. (Let alone for a moment the fact that you're a student in college in 2000, at Virginia Tech, on athletic scholarship, with no job... Where'd the five grand come from?!) Regardless, dogfighting...It's in your blood.

Then my friend, get a damn transfusion, and get that ignorant mess out of your system...

For crying out loud, does making $50,000 a year fighting dogs really mean that much to you that you're willing to risk an estimated $300 million -- thats a third of a billion dollars --  of salary and endorsement money to engage in bloodsport? You're barely middle class on fifty large a year in some cities, but right now, you're a multi-millionaire who's set for life and you waste all that for a working-class salary?

Not to mention, jail...

It's mind-boggling how crazy this sounds.

I've chronicled the scapegoated and the deviant. Now I'm covering the dense.

Mike, what were you thinking? You knew dogfighting was a felony in Virginia; that's why you did it away from prying eyes. You knew that people knew who you were when they saw you at the pit, right? Goodness gracious. If you're going to do dumb shit, don't get your hands dirty -- in this case literally, getting your hands dirty, killing your losing dogs. You never heard of Pablo Escobar actually carrying coke did you? Kingpins don't get seen...they get written about decades later and live in luxury, even in prison. Well, except for Manuel Noriega.

Nonetheless. You had it made, man. You had more money than some small countries, fame, women, cars, jewelry, even a college degree. Most of all you had limitless potential to be one of the most dominant (and well-paid) athletes in the history of sport, and to do virtually whatever you wanted to do after your playing days are over.  That's like...everything.

Except common sense.

Dude, you could have been a legend.

Well, you still will be, but now, for all the wrong reasons.