Solomon Jones: Vick had to face his kids, and that's the hardest part of all

AS A HUSBAND and father, my family is my most prized possession. It's my job to love them, protect them, provide for them and, most of all, present them with a living portrait of manhood.

That's why it struck a chord with me when I watched the news conference announcing that Michael Vick - who served 18 months in prison for bankrolling a dogfighting ring - had been signed by the Eagles.

Amid everything Vick said about contrition and redemption, one thing stood out for me as a father. The most difficult part of his ordeal, he said, was telling his children what he'd done.

Like all of us, I've made my share of mistakes and suffered my portion of consequences. But to risk damaging the portrait of manhood I've painted for my children would be devastating. Not just for them, but for me.

That's why I believe Michael Vick has already faced a punishment more severe than prison. He's done something most fathers pray they'll never have to do. He's admitted his greatest faults to his children.

But Vick has also admitted something more. He's admitted that he must change.

As a father, Eagles coach Andy Reid knows the value of that. Having watched his two sons make mistakes that resulted in jail time, Reid understands that none of us is infallible, and that there are times when a second chance is warranted.

I applaud Reid for demonstrating forgiveness. I commend him for facing a media more concerned with stoking the flames than dousing the fire. Most importantly, I admire Reid for presenting a portrait of manhood to which all of us should aspire.

Standing up for what is right isn't always popular. Embracing someone who has fallen isn't always easy. But sometimes, as a man, you must stand on the strength of your convictions, and ignore the cries of the crowd.

No one understands that better than Tony Dungy - a man who won a Super Bowl with the same quiet dignity with which he has lived his life, and endured the loss of a son to suicide along the way.

Dungy learned, like all of us do, that sometimes, despite our best efforts, the results are beyond our control. That hasn't stopped Dungy from mentoring Vick. In fact, I have the feeling that Dungy, an intensely spiritual man, is comforted in knowing that a higher authority is in charge.

It's a good thing, too. Were everything left to us, the voices of condemnation would drown out the voices of reason.

As a father, I hope those voices would scream as loudly if the people I love most were hurt. But based on what I've seen in other cases involving athletics, I'm not sure that would happen.

Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger was accused of raping a woman, and ESPN refused to cover it. Phillies pitcher Brett Myers beat his wife in public and rejoined the team within weeks. Louisville coach Rick Pitino had an extramarital affair- and allegedly paid to terminate a resultant pregnancy - and the university is standing by him, despite his contract's morals clause.

In none of those cases was the public outcry as loud or sustained as the one against Michael Vick.

As a father of two daughters, as a husband and son, as a man with female co-workers, friends and readers of every age and hue, that concerns me.

If the women I love and respect were ever mistreated, I would hope the perpetrator would be forced not only to face me, but to face the same public outrage that Michael Vick has endured for his treatment of dogs.

What am I saying? I'm saying that, as a man, I must stand on the strength of my convictions. I believe Michael Vick was wrong. I believe he must change. But I also believe that if our society values animals more than it values women, we have to change, as well.

Solomon Jones' column appears every Saturday. He can be reached at

sj@solomonjones.com