Vick says all the right things in court

Falcons quarterback answers all the questions but one: Why did he do it?

I believe in second chances. I have done so many stupid things in my life that I also believe in third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth chances.

But I don’t know if I believe in Michael Vick.

I watched his performance on ESPN late Monday morning and again online, read and re-read the post-plea statement he offered the media.

He was good. There’s a baseball term that applies to home runs – touch ’em all. Vick touched all the subjects he needed to, and one he did not.

Vick, somehow only 27, dressed as safely as a banker, wearing a dark suit, white shirt and gold tie. He spoke softly, his voice a testament to contrition and sorrow. Only once did he refer to himself as Michael Vick.

He stood behind a lectern crammed with microphones and tape recorders at the Omni Hotel in Richmond, Va., and, although he often looked down, he never looked at notes.

Vick apologized to NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, Atlanta Falcons owner Arthur Blank and coach Bobby Petrino, apologized to his Atlanta teammates and, more than once, to children.

He called dogfighting “terrible.”

He blamed nobody but himself.

He made a mistake when he said he “found Jesus.”

Maybe Vick has. But a man who wants to get out of jail or stay out of jail always says he has found Jesus. Find me a man who stands before a judge who has not found Jesus.

It’s a cliche. It was one too many.

“I told a judge once that my client had found Jesus,” says George Laughrun, a Charlotte criminal defense attorney for 26 years and the rare attorney people like. “The judge said, ‘I didn’t know he was lost.'”

I asked Laughrun, whose customers have included former Panthers Rae Carruth (briefly) and Jason Peter, if he writes statements for clients, who then turn his words into theirs.

Laughrun said he might suggest issues they should address.

But a client comes across as more sincere when the message is his own.

Law is public relations, and going to court is like going on a job interview or a first date. We don’t have to be at our best. We have to be better than we are.

As I said, Vick was good. And it was not merely U.S. District Court Judge Henry E. Hudson whom Vick was trying to impress. It was Goodell.

“He might be positioning himself to show Goodell that he’s changed,” Laughrun said.

How will he know?

The Vick who said he rejected dogfighting financed a dogfighting ring.

The Vick who said he found Jesus was willing to execute dogs deemed unworthy.

When Vick finished his 23-sentence statement, he departed. He took no questions.

“Every case has one question,” Laughrun said. “The question is: Why did you do it?”

My question for Vick – and for anybody else who gets his kicks watching dogs rip each other up – is similar.

What’s wrong with you?