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The redemption of Michael Vick | Sam Donnellon

Onetime Eagles quarterback has proved the naysayers wrong and really did turn his life around.

THEY HAD a retirement ceremony for Michael Vick in Atlanta on Monday and the only thing more incredible than that is that no pigs were seen flying overhead.

Think about it. Think about it long and hard. Did any of us - and I mean even one person - imagine that as a possibility 2007? In 2009? Nope. Not after those videos of tortured dogs surfaced, not after he served 18 months in prison, not even after he vowed he was a changed man and the Eagles signed him to back up Donovan McNabb in August 2009 - a move that turned the Eagles practice facility into a fortress as animal rights advocates surrounded its perimeter.

Arthur Blank, the Atlanta Falcons owner who had to go to arbitration to get back $20 million of the signing bonus he paid Vick - which left the quarterback owing a laundry list of creditors money after his release - celebrated the former No. 1 pick and three-time Pro Bowl quarterback Monday as "a living example of how you could make a better choice."

"Michael, like everybody on the face of the earth . . . has made a mistake in his life, starting with the person who's speaking now," Blank said. "Life is really all about learning from your mistakes, redemption, learning to be a better person, moving on, and making a difference in the lives of other people.

"And there are many people that I know in life that have done that, but I'd say none more than Michael Vick."

This is what could not be known on that day Vick arrived at Novacare, the day Andy Reid officially became the coaching brand of second chances. Oh, there was all that talk about being a changed and better man back then, too, about those sessions in and out of prison with Tony Dungy, the former Colts coach whose son had committed suicide in 2005. Michael was going to donate to animal shelters and speak at schools about animal cruelty and make a positive contribution and yada yada yada.

Few, if any, believed any of it. Too many fallen stars before him had feigned remorse amid superficial gestures in order to re-establish their marketability and/or livelihood.

And Reid? His reputation for building a team filled with character guys had already taken hits with the signing of Terrell Owens a few years before and later drafting DeSean Jackson. This, to many was simply Win-At-All-Costs Reid, Version 3.

So we weren't buying it, at least most of us weren't, as Vick spent much of that first season as McNabb's backup. Even a year later, when Vick replaced Kevin Kolb and single-handedly blew up the Washington Redskins on a nationally televised Monday night, it served only to reignite the debate over whether his reclamation was sincere or not, even whether a changed Michael Vick playing football again was a good reflection of our society, or a bad one.

And if you were among the majority of doubters back then? You should still feel free to feel good now. There were bluffers before him and there will be bluffers in our future, but few things are more endearing or even inspirational than a person who has truly changed for the better. I see kids at the gym these days, kids who weren't even born when Mike Tyson's life spiraled out of control and into a prison cell, wearing t-shirts celebrating him as "Youngest World Champion, 1986."

As a reporter who covered him back then, I never thought he'd even be alive right now, never mind reclaimed, or celebrated.

And as seen in his one-man Vegas/HBO show, he clearly didn't, either.

To be clear: I have no idea how much of Tyson's public image these days is the result of internal change or improved packaging, but his often harsh critique of his former self is enough to convince me. Similarly, I can't tell you whether Vick is a good husband or father, only that he appears to be making an honest effort to be both.

An honest effort, it would seem, to be the positive force he vowed he would be that day he arrived at Novacare.

Like the father welcoming back a prodigal son, Blank was there Monday, proudly boasting about the improved version of Michael Vick, the one who visits schools and churches and now champions animal rights, the one who comes without a PlayStation equivalent.

"He is a living example of how you can make a better choice," said the Falcons owner.

And a living example that sometimes these reclamations are not about money or marketing or even winning. Sometimes they are actually for real.

donnels@phillynews.com

@samdonnellon

Columns: ph.ly/Donnellon