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SPARTANBURG Michael Vick is not going to be a Carolina Panther. He has not been in camp. He has not huddled with Carolina officials in secret meetings in secret rooms in secret buildings. Wofford College has no secret buildings. He has not toured the practice fields in a golf car with Panthers owner Jerry Richardson.
The rumors – VICK TO PANTHERS – persist because Carolina coach John Fox has yet to deny the possibility and because there are not enough fact-based rumors to satisfy the media as we approach mid-August.
I ask Fox after practice Wednesday if he can envision any circumstances under which Vick plays for him.
“You always keep all options open,” says Fox. “I can't say that's something we're heavily involved in at this point.”
He adds: “It's all a possibility.”
Asked what he would do with Vick – would Vick have worn a red hands-off quarterback jersey in Wednesday's rain or a white offensive jersey or a blue defensive jersey – Fox says, “I don't think much about it.”
About the Vick-to-Panthers rumors, which will fester until Fox's denial is more adamant or a team other than Carolina signs him?
“I don't think much about it,” says Fox. Then he says, “I don't think it's high on the radar but I don't like to eliminate anything.”
Another Panthers source is more direct. Asked if there's a chance Vick will become a Panther, his message is not, “no way.”
His message is, “NO WAY!”
Interpret that any way you choose.
Here's my problem with the message and, if you know Fox, with his. I would like to see the team at least consider Vick because I would like to see him in a Panthers uniform.
If you read my column, you know I believe in dogs. I can't fathom life without our 9-year-old Boston terrier, whom we've had since he was a puppy, who helped me adjust to the suburbs and who, like all Bostons, is wonderfully insane.
I can't fathom life without our greyhound, Taz, who was a marvelous racing dog in Florida and Connecticut before he joined us. We saw a lean black dog missing a toe, a piece of his right ear and the hair on the bottom of his stomach that had lived in a greyhound shelter for a year. I don't feel comfortable saying we rescued him because that implies we did him a favor. The favor was mutual.
Whether you believe in dogs or not, Vick's relationship with pit bulls was contemptible. To derive enjoyment from raising dogs to fight, from promoting dog fights or from watching dog fights is sick. If you get off watching dog fights on Friday night, what do you do on Saturday – watch roosters?
Vick's transgressions are greater than dogfighting. He tortured dogs whose winning percentage was down there with his completion percentage. The best you can say about people who pick on the defenseless is that they are twisted and sick. You can say worse.
So, if I feel this way about Vick and his disdain for dogs, why would I like to see him get a shot with the Panthers?
As much as I believe in dogs, I also believe in second chances. The life Vick led was taken away. He went to prison. He was forced to do time, and he did. He's entitled to move on.
Vick is not entitled to move on to the NFL. But if he offers a skill set that, while limited, is his alone, why wouldn't you at least give him a look?
Remember how effective DeAngelo Williams was taking a direct snap when Dan Henning served as Carolina's offensive coordinator? Be interesting to see what Vick could offer when he lined up behind center.
The Panthers don't need another quarterback. Jake Delhomme is the starter, and he won't be appreciated until he wins a Super Bowl or retires. Josh McCown is a legitimate No. 2 and Matt Moore might be.
“We're happy with our quarterbacks,” general manager Marty Hurney says.
Vick is not a quarterback. The problem is that when Delhomme struggles, less knowledgeable fans will clamor for Vick. The Panthers certainly are capable of ignoring them. But the clamor will create a distraction, and it will be loud.
The more astute fans will remember that the longer Vick played, the more his limitations were exposed. A teammate of his in Atlanta told me Vick was more likely to listen to his friends than his coaches. His friends wanted him to be the rambling, scrambling quarterback he was at Virginia Tech.
His Atlanta coaches knew that wouldn't work. Defenses quickly figured out what was coming and ran him down and beat him up. Late in the game or the season, neither Vick's heart nor his legs would allow him to scramble anymore.
Vick's value is as a change-up, nothing more. He's a surprise and a change-up. He'll be to passing what Rhys Lloyd is to Carolina's kicking. John Kasay kicks the extra-points and field goals. Lloyd kicks off.
Vick can catch an occasional pass, return an occasional punt or kickoff, be called upon for instant offense.
If he is truly contrite, and if he isn't thrown by the life-like Wofford terrier in front of the Campus Life Building in which the Panthers meet with the media and eat, the Panthers should offer him a job.
Tom Sorensen: 704-358-5119;
tsorensen@charlotteobserver.com
