Earlier today, ESPN ran a column from Toure wondering what it would be like if Mike Vick were white. But since Toure was apparently too much of a pussy to actually play the scenario out, allow us to do the job for him.

(August 2009)

White Mike Vick: Oh, man. Oh, SHIT. Oh, motherfucker. I am white and I am STILL HIGH! Cain’t believe it!

Goodell: Now, Michael. I need to know you’ve been rehabilitated. I don’t EVER want to hear about you staging labradoodle fights again. I don’t even think you should be anywhere NEAR a labradoodle. Or else you will again find yourself doing three days in a minimum security Federal halfway rehab house and spa center.

White Mike Vick: But you don’t understand, Mister Commissioner Man! That’s just how we do at muthaphuckkin’ Wake Forest! I am a product of the environment I grew up in! If y’all ain’t from the more gentrified portions of Fairfax County in Virginia, y’all bitches ain’t got no business judging ME! All my friends grew up fightin’ ‘doodles: Blakely, Taylor, Tyler, Jaden, Braden, Grayson, “The Dukester”…

Goodell: I don’t care! And neither does coach Dungy, because you are white and he doesn’t do image rehabilitation for white athletes such as yourself.

White Mike Vick: This some bullllllshit!

Goodell: Now, we have to find a proper team for you. I called the Eagles and apparently you are FAR too accurate for Andy Reid’s liking. He much prefers a much more athletic QB who’s willing to spray the ball all over the field, as if the ball is being urinated out of the QB’s penis. Like Vince Young! You’re too poised in the pocket and skilled at reading defenses for that sort of thing.

White Mike Vick: Then who’s gonna sign me?

(door flies open)

King of the Hobos: GRRRR GRUMBLE GRUMBLE NEED CHASTENED ATHLETE TO YELL AT.

Goodell: Bill here is the best there is at putting wayward athletes like you in their place.

King of the Hobos: GRRRR NO COMPLAINING WHILE I RAPE YOU.

White Mike Vick: I don’t want to go there! I want to start! In Buffalo! Surrounded by people and snow that look just like me!

Goodell: You’re riding the bench in New England and that’s that!

Tommy: (calling into WEEI) ANATHAHHH MASTAHSTROKE BY OW-AHHHH FOOTBAWLL RED AHHHHHHBACK! NO ONE DENIES THIS!

Similarly retarded WEEI caller: I’ve been cawllin’ fah them to replace Brady fah yeee-ahs. What has he done far Sawx Nation lately? WE NEVAH SHOULD HAVE GAWTTEN RID OF BLEDSOE! TOTALLY CLASSLESS MOVE BY A CLASSLESS AHHGANIZATION!

(fast forward to September 2010)

Brady: (driving Audi down the street) Boy, I sure would like to drive more recklessly. You know what? Knowing there’s a pedigreed WHITE quarterback behind me on the depth chart, I see no reason not to take a little risk. Lemme just speed up a little here.

(Brady dies)

Tommy: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Fackin’ Lenny Bias and Reggie Lewis and Bucknah times FAHHHH MILLION!

Yankees Fan: Please. 9/11 is the dynasty of mass tragedies forever.

Tommy: Fackin’ 9/11 is nawt even in its bawlllpahhhk! FACK YOU, YOU NEW YARK FAGGOT! WE WILL NEVAH GET OVAH THIS! THESE AHHH DAHHHK TIMES! THANK GAWD HIS BACKUP ISN’T A DAHHKIE!

King of the Hobos: GRRRR TOM WAS A FINE YOUNG MAN BUT HE’S DEAD NOW LET’S ALL MOVE ON. MIKE’S MY GUY NOW.

White Mike Vick: Oh, fuck! I’m the starter now! CAIN’T NOBODY DO WHAT I DO!

(Passes for 5,000 yards and 40 TDs)

(Runs for 0 yards)

(Gives no one herpes)

(Jersey becomes instant best-seller in Boston area)

Tommy: Greatest GREATRIOT OF ALL TIME! He reminds me of me! So spunky. So gritty. I don’t cay-ahhh if he fought expensive dawgs. THAT JUST SHOWS YOU HOW HAHHHHDCORE-AH HE IS! JUST LIKE THE QUINZERS! He may be a cawnvict, but he is ow-ahhhh cawnvict! Like Ben Affleck, he embawdies the toughness and realness of ow-ah town!

Gruden: I tell you what, Jaws. This guy… there’s no ceiling with this guy. You talk about a guy who loves to COMPETE.

(fast forward to 2011)

ESPN Editor: Hmm. Seems like Mike Vick’s getting an awful lot of run lately. I wonder if…

Headline: “WHAT IF MIKE VICK WERE BLACK?!!!!”

Tommy: You take that Photoshawp back! He’ll nevah be a fackin’ black! 100% IRISH TILL HE DIES! THAT’S OW-AH VICK!!!!!

GREATEST QUAHTAHBACK EVAH!!!

Thank you, Peter King:

“Has there ever been a red-headed quarterback in the NFL who’s really done well?” the coach asked. “It sounds idiotic, but is there any way that could be a factor? We’ve wondered.”

Here’s how this whole thing started if you missed it.

Vick: Oh.

Oh, man.

Oh, Sweet Wilma Flintstone. DAMN.

I am fucking HIGH!

Can’t slow my roll! Even Jeremy Maclin’s mystery herpes ain’t gonna slow down MV7. I got everything I need for this season: LeSean, DeSean, probably some other Sean, Nnamdi, this 3D pegasus sticker they sold me at the Rite Aid… Look at that pegasus, man. If I look at it this way, its wings are down, but if I look at it THIS way, its wings are up! That’s SORCERY, bitch.

(door issued tersely worded warning to open or face potential locking out)

Goodell: Michael, glad I found you!

Vick: Oh! Oh, shit! It’s my red-headed stepdad!

Goodell: Michael, we have a bit of a problem.

Vick: I know! The Rite Aid had NO Visine! THE FUCK?

Goodell: It’s not that. Listen, we need to talk about this GQ article.

Vick: Oh, you mean the one from the Raisin Man. That was one fucked up white boy. Ate raisins ALL THE DAMN TIME. Went on and on about baseball like a damn BITCH.

Goodell: Yes well, you see this part where you intimated that we forced you to sign with the Eagles instead of the Bills or Bengals?

Vick: Oh right! I do! You said you’d put my mom into foreclosure if I signed with Cincy. CLEAR AS DAY. I may be high, but some things still stick around in this dome!

Goodell: Actually, I do believe that joining the Eagles was your choice.

Vick: It was?

(flashes back)

(The Vick home, 2009)

Goodell: YOU WILL SIGN THIS FUCKING CONTRACT OR I WILL PACMAN JONES YOU INTO THE GODDAMN POORHOUSE.

Dungy: Listen to him, Michael. You must consider what is best for THE LEAGUE, for what is best for THE LEAGUE is also best for you. And for Your Maker.

Vick: But I wanna start! Lee Evans said he can’t wait to drop balls 50 yard downfield from me! CAIN’T DO THAT IN PHILLY!

Dungy: (takes off belt and lashes Vick across the face with it) SILENCE!

(back to present day)

Goodell: Absolutely. It was YOUR decision.

Vick: Huh. I must have been… Huh. Shit. DAMN.

Goodell: Listen, a simple statement will clear this all up. Let me help you with it.

(whips out pen)

Vick: Okay. (starts writing) “Dear Mom,”

Goodell: You don’t have to address it. It’s not a letter. Just write the statement. “I, Michael Vick…”

Vick: “I, Michael Vick…”

Goodell: “…was in NO WAY influenced by the NFL or commissioner Roger Goodell…”

Vick: “…was in NO WAY influenced by the NFL or commissioner Roger Goodell…” Are you sure I wasn’t influenced?

Goodell: Absolutely. Not influenced AT ALL. Now keep writing. “…in my decision making.”

Vick: “…in my decision making.” Is that the right wording? I can’t decide.

Goodell: IT’S THE RIGHT WORDING. NOW SIGN IT.

Vick: But who’s this Goodell fella you keep mentioning?

Goodell: I AM.

Vick: Oh. Really? WOW. That’s a serious-ass plot twist right there.

Goodell: Just send out that statement. And if anyone asks you, the NFL has NEVER influenced your decision-making.

Vick: And what do I have for dinner tonight?

Goodell: Chinese. Gotta go Chinese.

Vick: Damn! That’s a bold choice! Can’t go wrong listening to y’all!

And really, who can blame him? Dogs are pretty great.

Unfortunately Vick has a bit of a history with canis familiaris. Remember the rape stand? Bad times. Back to the original point, Vick told The Grio that in the future he’d like to be a dog owner. You know, the non-murderous kind. He believes that it could aid in his rehabilitation, plus his daughters really want a puppy.

Not everyone is on board. Andrew Sharp of SB Nation calls it a “terrible idea,” while Chris Chase, arbiter of timeliness and writer for Shutdown Corner, declares it “too soon.” He goes on to concede that, “In time, it might make sense for him to own a dog.” Which is pretty much what Vick meant when he said, “”I would love to get another dog in the future.”

By all accounts Vick has done a lot good work with the Humane Society since his release. I personally don’t have a problem with the Vick family adopting a dog in the future, as long as his friends at the Humane Society are on board. Just don’t let him adopt TWO dogs. That’s where the trouble starts.

Lost in the dizzying fun of DeSean Jackson artfully falling into the end zone in last night’s Eagles victory over the Cowboys was Dallas running back Tashard Choice asking for Michael Vick to autograph his gloves after the game. Oh man, that’s the sort of the meaningless violation of athlete protocol that will have sanctimonious pundits running around with clenched buttholes for days. Derek Anderson smiling and laughing on the sideline will seem like nothing. Here’s one now.

What the f*ck, indeed. Speaking of that phrase, it was picked up quite clearly on the Raiders sideline late in their loss in Jacksonville. I don’t know why I so love it when a microphone accidentally picks up an athlete swearing during a game. It’s not as though profanity doesn’t already act as an unextinguishable source of filler in my everyday life. Maybe it has something to do with me being condemned to never progress beyond the mental age of 12.

Damnhellasssfuckcunttitshitbitch

/squeals with delight

Vick video via SB Nation, who has the coolest social media strat going. Seriously, don’t ever knock it. They’ll hurt you.

John Feinstein, in an opinion given a startling amount of serious attention, found racist coding in the many inane excuses Mike Shanahan used for justifying his benching of Donovan McNabb in the final two minutes against the Lions. No, no, NO! How could Feinstein be so misguided? Shahahan doesn’t dislike McNabb because he’s black. Shanahan is just an asshole who mistreats every quarterback who isn’t Elway. Race is why Philly fans hated him.

Oh, calm down, Philly scum, I’m just cruelly baiting you.

Still, there’s no outcome that doesn’t lead to unbearable media reaction. Even with the new ludicrous contract, a Redskins win means sanctimonious writers like Feinstein get to obtusely claim how racism has been proven wrong yet again. An Eagles win gives occasion to thousands of smug Philly writers to try to smugly explain how McNabb losing justifies the city’s retarded obsession with hating his guts. All the more reason to silently resent the media borg I have allowed to assimilate me.

Don’t forget to while away the pregame with this week’s edition of The Designed Rush at SB Nation.

Oh, man.

Oh, shit.

Oh, hot spatula.

Oh, motherfucker, I AM HIGH! I am so high, I’m just like… FUCK! You know? That high. I’m so high, I feel like… unnnnghhhhh! THAT IS WHAT THE FUCK I’M TALKING ABOUT!

Goddamn, I am high.

This is great. Life is good, I’m high as shit, and Michael Vick is back to doing what Michael Vick does best. Can’t nobody do what Mike Vick does. Can’t nobody run and throw like this. Can’t nobody throw himself a birthday party and then get the fuck out of there 40 minutes before that corny motherfucker Quanis comes to the door. YOU TELL ME KEVIN KOLB HAS THE KIND OF ESCAPABILITY! He ain’t shit!

(knock on the door)

What the…? I wasn’t expecting anyone, except for the deliverymen from Qdoba, Pizza Hut, Moe’s, Domino’s, and Len’s Crab Shack. Who the fuck is it?

(door flies open)

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: Oh, shit! Quan Lo! The legendary Chinese underground dogfighting bookie!

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: Nah, man. No way! You got me all wrong! Ookie doesn’t do that sort of thing anymore! This is a new Michael Vick! He’s socially responsible! He’s kind and generous to others! He’s mildly accurate and no longer relies on Alge Crumpler to pad his passer rating! THINGS HAVE CHANGED!

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: Yes, I know I owe your ass a few million, give or take. But don’t you worry, Quan Lo. Michael Vick good for it. Al Davis has already offered $40 million guaranteed, plus all the soft tacos I can eat. 2011 WILL BE THE YEAR OF THE VICKENING!

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: What do you mean, interest?

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: FUCK THAT NOISE!

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: Oh, well I guess that makes sense.

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: No. No way. My days of fighting dogs are over! You can’t drag me back into that seedy netherworld again.

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: No way. No fighting cats either!

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: Ain’t fighting no wild boars!

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: Ain’t fighting no unicorns and pegasuses neither! My days of cruelty to animals is long gone. Although I must say, I did feel really good to put some of those dogs down. I mean, they’re so dumb! You hit them and they keep coming back and you hit them again and they keep coming back. THEY JUST KEEP DOING THE SAME SHIT OVER AND OVER AGAIN! THAT’S SO FUNNY! Kinda makes me want to kill one again. BUT NO! I WON’T DO IT!

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: What do you mean, Evil Overlord?

Quan Lo: DIDDY MAO!

Vick: No. No, no. No, it can’t be.

(door flies open)

Tony Dungy: Hello, Michael.

Vick: Coach Dungy!

Dungy: I see you’ve had quite the resurrection of late. Pity the same can’t be said for all those poor, poor dogs you helped kill.

Vick: What do you want from me? And why hasn’t the man from Qdoba showed up yet?

Dungy: There will be plenty of time for burritos, Michael. But for now, we must have a chat. You see, I do believe it was I who helped you sign with the Eagles. Was it not?

Vick: Shit, I dunno. I guess.

Dungy: And since I did you that favor, I think you should do a favor for me. Is that not fair?

Vick: YEAH BUT I WAS HIGH!

Dungy: Shhhh. Shhhh. Quiet, my boy. You remember when I asked you to help me fight gays, do you not?

Vick: A little bit.

Dungy: Michael, I’m afraid that, since we last spoke, the problem of American gayness has become even more widespread, what with “Modern Family” winning the Emmys and all. Gayness has seeped into every facet of our culture. And worse yet, we’ve LET IT HAPPEN. And do you know what happens when we have gay people, Michael?

Vick: Troy Aikman gets a job?

Dungy: No. We have GAY ANIMALS. Look!

Vick: Oh, man. That is one gay motherfucking dog.

Dungy: THIS is what is turning up in America’s kennels now. Gay dogs, littering the streets. Copulating with each other in the buttocks. Infecting our children with gay. Do you want to ignore this problem, or do you want to help me solve it?

Vick: Man, I don’t want any part of this! I JUST WANNA BE MIKE VICK! I wanna run free! And use lots of Chap Stick! And give a bitch herpes! Just like normal people do! I don’t want this anymore!

Dungy: I’m afraid you have no choice. You will fight these gay dogs in an arena of combat. Or else…

Quan Lo: (draws gun) DIDDY MAO!

Dungy: What he said.

Vick: What if, like, I could get the dogs to STOP being fag dogs? Would that work? If I could get them back on that there Tuna Chow and shit?

Dungy: Possibly. Although once the sinner has sinned, never shall he be redeemed.

Vick: Just gimme a week to ungay these dogs!

Dungy: Very well. YOU HAVE ONE WEEK.

(They leave)

Vick: Okay, Foofie. I know normally you don’t get along with pussy, but I’mma need your help.

Dog: Bow wow wowwww!

Vick: Shit. This ain’t gonna be easy.

Song: “Knives and Pens” — Black Veil Brides
Mood: Most Morose

When you’ve lived long enough to experience the kind of grief that I have (24 in October!!), few tragedies catch you off guard. Having to settle for the third college on your list. Being saddled with semester after semester of jerk roommates. Not being blessed with the kind of pointless overrated lead singer in a shitty band voice that makes Samantha fall in love with you in clear deviance of her better interests. I’ve dealt with some of the worst that life has to offer.

Every so often, however, there sneaks a devastating cruelty past the safeguards of even your most cynical expectations. Those are the ones that really get you. The ones you can’t shake off, that make the full malevolence in the world so self-evident that it could be referenced in Satan’s founding document of Hell. I could never begin to know the full complexity of Kevin Kolb, but I bet that’s what he has to be feeling at this moment.

You see, Kolb was selected in the second round of the 2007 NFL draft. High enough to be regarded as a viable starter, but low enough to he could be allowed to whither on the bench’s vines for several years. He did so with dignity, but also with hope that eventually his day would come. He never spoke out of line and did what was expected of him. And though it took the departure of an underappreciated legend happening before its time, Kolb’s day did come. Only that day ended in disaster. He suffered a concussion, the type of injury that will be one day render him homeless and incompetent. Someone to be hauled in front of Congress as a cautionary tale of the sport.

That will come later, of course. For now, Kolb is still a football player. The concussion should have only been a minor setback. He had earned this job, after all. Only no. Fairness would make too much sense. That would be the script if we operated according to our better angels. But how often do they have a a part in how things play out?

Instead, a total jerkwheat comes forward to usurp the job with a few flashy plays. Here is a man capable of unspeakable evil, nevertheless able to dazzle all around him with athleticism. And now he is proclaimed leader. How can people be so blind as to the inner workings of the soul? I want to say they will pay for lack of perspective, but I know from experience that they will probably not.

I want to say the lesson of Kevin Kolb is that one must disregard the virtues of patience and simply, maybe callously, take our most heartfelt desires. To do otherwise is only to foster deception. Deception most inimical.

This Volvo owner was crushed to learn that OOKIE was already taken.

Thanks, Sarah.