Will Vick be able to reconnect with fans?

RICHMOND

Michael Vick's collapse - a fall his lawyer called "so hard, so far and so fast" - was punctuated Monday by soft sobs from family members as Vick, wearing the black-and-white stripes of convicted felons, slumped in a chair and massaged his forehead.

In a 45-minute sentencing hearing, Vick again admitted regret for his heinous choice of hobbies: spearheading a dogfighting ring. A gain, Vick's lawyer, Billy Martin, contended Vick had accepted blame all along - Vick, in fact, did no such thing - and deserved leniency.

Judge Henry E. Hudson wasn't buying. Hudson gave the ex-Pro Bowl quarterback from Newport News 23 months in federal prison - minus three weeks served - because he knows hogwash when he hears it.

Hudson toed the high side of the recommended penalty because Vick, 27, caved only when he was cornered by his dog-killing comrades, who spilled in plea agreements.

The judge wasn't heartless, although he was clearly peeved Vick got nailed smoking pot while awaiting sentencing. Hudson commiserated over Vick's $100 million-plus in lost football income, acknowledged the many pro-Vick letters to his office and commended Vick for denouncing animal cruelty. Much too late, but on the record nonetheless.

Hudson just figured Vick was about two years away from complete sincerity.

The judge then ordered Vick back into custody - to a federal prison to be named - and adjourned one of the most remarkable squanderings of fame and wealth we'll see.

This time, at least, the circus wasn't in town. National media swarmed as in previous Vick court appearances and PETA people with posters of abused pit bulls lined the sidewalk across from the courthouse.

Overall, though, the morning's mood was somber, quiet, surreal.

A couple Vick supporters showed up in Atlanta Falcons jerseys; the team still owns Vick's contract rights. Two dozen business law students bused in from a Rocky Mount, N.C., high school to watch from an overflow room.

A Humane Society spokesman, John Goodwin, gave non-stop interviews noting the sadness but also the benefit of Vick's case; dogfighting arrests nationwide have tripled, he said.

"We do believe in redemption," Goodwin said. "But it has to be sincere."

Monday's voices were tempered, reasonable, regretful. One voice, however, waits to be heard - that of NFL commissioner Roger Goodell.

Goodell is the other shoe and he hovers directly over whatever future Vick still owns as an NFL player. If Vick got the maximum sentence reduction for behaving well in prison, he could be out by the summer of 2009, in time for training camp. What then?

Goodell, who last summer banned Vick indefinitely from the NFL, made only one comment Monday, a non-comment, really, about dealing with Vick's status "when the legal process was closed."

Maybe that means after the resolution of state charges against Vick for animal cruelty and dogfighting. Or maybe not. Recent history suggests two things, however: that Goodell, chief of the NFL's behavior police, might tack up to a year's suspension to Vick's prison term.

And that, in the brazen business of pro football, some team will be waiting, tryout offer in hand, whenever Vick is free.

Convicted felons can't be president, but they can be hired to play football any day of the week.

Vick is a despicable creep for calculatedly killing dogs and funding a fighting ring for six years. Forgive him, then, as best you will and know he'll never sell another sneaker or sports drink.

Personally, I'll struggle along somehow, even if I never see him take another snap. But if Vick can still run fast and throw hard when he swaps out his prisoner's stripes, know that he'll get to do so again. Time often heals and talent always prevails.

Support Vick then as best you can.