Hi, everyone, thanks for coming out. This is going to be my one and only press statement about Michael Vick, and it’s gonna be quick; I have a lot of work to do, as I was pretty much just planning on a long season of clipboard-holding until a few weeks ago. So please forgive my brevity here.

I don’t really have a lot to say about this whole thing. Obviously, what Mike did cannot be condoned, and I am by no means trying to forgive what he did. Let me make this clear, once and for all: Training dogs to fight and kill each other is wrong, torturing and killing animals is wrong.

But I think we need to be as supportive as we can in this, his hour of need. I appreciate the statement Mike made after admitting his guilt in this matter. It shows that he is serious about wanting to grow up, and that he is willing to take the necessary steps to make sure that he never does this again. I am sure that his probable jail time will help him to accomplish his goal of maturity. I know that a period of incarceration — probably no longer than five years and definitely no more than ten — will help Mike look deep inside himself, and help him find the answers he seeks.

I hope Mike’s admission helps everyone get off his back. The man is a legendary talent, truly one of the most amazing athletes that the NFL has ever seen. I cannot hope to compare myself to him, nor will I even try. My style is completely different, both in football and in life; it always has been, ever since I started for good old Central Catholic back in Portland. I’m not a flashy guy like Mike — I drive a 1998 Saturn, my main hobby is jazz piano, and my favorite food is spaghetti. I’m just a humble Irish guy who loves his parents, his new wife Emily, and his cocker spaniel Cecil. Who is treated very well, thank you very much.

Let me tell you about how I got my dog. A couple of years ago, I was pretty low. I was the starting QB for the Lions, but no one thought I was doing a good job. In fact, a lot of people thought I pretty much stunk up the place. It doesn’t really matter whether it was the coach, his poorly-conceived offensive scheme, or my own failings — whatever the reason, we just weren’t getting it done. And boy, were the fans letting me know it. I even got booed when my United Way commercial came on the Jumbotron.

After one particularly brutal home loss, I was driving home, listening to some Cecil Taylor, when I saw something that made me sick. A man was standing on the side of the MacArthur Bridge, getting ready to throw a small bag into the icy river below. Now, very few things get me steamed more than litterbugs — I can’t help it, I grew up in Oregon! But what made it worse was when I realized that something in the bag was moving. I immediately pulled over and yelled at the guy to stop. This mulleted moron swore at me, told me that I was a [crappy] quarterback, and tried again to toss his tiny cargo into the water. I laid him out with one uppercut before he could carry out his evil plan, and opened the bag. Inside was the most adorable little puppy I’d ever seen. From then on, Cecil and I have been constant companions and best buddies. He’s got my back, and I’ve got his. (I hope I can rescue this fine franchise from its darkest days, just like I rescued Cecil that night!)

That’s one of the things that really eats at all of us on the team, the fear that our fans will desert us because of Mike’s troubles. In fact, a lot of us are animal-lovers. John Abraham has five dogs, and he spoils ’em something rotten. Those dudes eat better than I do! Alge Crumpler has a dog AND a cat, and he says they get along really well. Allen Rossum has a pet boa constrictor named Jammer, who eats only these really expensive hairy rats that A.R. imports from Papua New Guinea. And I don’t know if you know this, but Todd McClure has a pet orangutan who does a perfect impression of our awesome owner, Arthur Blank. It’s a real hoot! I guess all I’m saying is that it would be a shame if we were all painted with the same brush that Mike used to paint himself into the corner he’s in, if you know what I mean.

Listen, I know y’all (did I use that correctly?) are used to having a quarterback who can drop back 20 yards, casually evade the entire oncoming defensive front for ten or twenty seconds, then suddenly whip it downfield 70 yards on the fly off his back foot. Mike is a true hip-hop artist of a quarterback — bangin’ highlights, crowd-pleasing stuff all over the place…but then maybe some dull stuff too, diminishing returns, the skits get kind of boring, and nobody really needs to hear another guest spot by Andre 3000. Well, you’re not going to get much of that from me. I see myself as more of a jazz pianist type of guy — I know the basics, and I can improvise a little bit when it’s appropriate, but my main job is just to keep the song going so everyone else can shine.

All I can be is the best Joey Harrington I can be. And that doesn’t necessarily spell doom for the Atlanta Falcons, not at all. Bobby Petrino is busy whipping up some super offensive sets, and our great defense is rarin’ to go. Come on down and “get crunk” with us this year — you might just be glad you did!

Joey Harrington finished fourth in the voting for the 2001 Heisman Trophy during his days at the University of Oregon.