Vick case points to weakness of players union

If ever there were a reason pro football players needed to be represented by a muscular union, it's Roger Goodell.

Unfortunately, for some of its most troubled and maligned members, the people in charge of running the National Football League Players Association seem to be spending the summer at the beach.

Goodell's conditional, partial reinstatement of Michael Vick on Monday is the most controversial decision to come out of the commissioner's office since the indefinite suspension of Cleveland Browns receiver Donte Stallworth last month.

In both cases, the public approved of Goodell's judgment, while most of the media is going along for the ride.

It's not surprising that Goodell's strongman image plays well to these crowds - the NFL is quite effective at managing the message. But why isn't the players' union speaking out the way Terrell Owens did when he accused Goodell of piling on Vick?

"I think he's done the time for what he's done," Owens said. "Why more punishment? It's almost like kicking a dead horse in the ground."

Imagine that. The player known for thinking only of himself has spoken in support of today's least sympathetic athlete. His is a relatively lonely voice. Standing up for Vick - criticizing the addition of more barriers between the one-time quarterback and his return to the sport - won't win anybody a lot of new friends.

But it's not a union's job to make friends or to toe the line of political correctness. The NFLPA ill-serves its membership when it tries to answer to the public; it exists, in large part, in order to take unpopular stands in defense of its players.

The union should be prepared to question Goodell's unchecked powers.

So where has it been?

If the Major League Baseball Players Association wields too much clout, the wimpishness of the NFLPA is demonstrated by its feeble response to the tortured process of Vick's attempted comeback.

The union is hamstrung by the personal conduct policy that Goodell instituted two years ago, but what kind of union would allow the commissioner so much authority in the first place?

More ridiculous is the policy's appeal process. When a player is suspended, he can't take his case to an independent third party; Goodell handles all appeals himself.

Even under these circumstances, Owens believes that the players' union needs to do something, or at least say something, because Vick has suffered enough. Because to add a multi-week suspension "onto a two-year prison sentence, I mean, that's ridiculous."

Agree with him or not, but this is the stance the players' union should be taking. It's not a case of showing compassion for Vick. The issue is fairness.

Is Goodell really looking out for the welfare of the NFL? Or is he consciously or subconsciously grinding his heel into the neck of an athlete who once lied to him?

The personal conduct policy offers the NFL quick relief from public relations headaches, a stance heartily endorsed by fans, especially when it deals with fools like Adam "Pacman" Jones.

But after all that Vick has lost in the way of freedom, money and time, when Goodell slaps him with some sort of double-secret probation, the validity of the policy should be challenged.

So far, DeMaurice Smith, new head of the NFLPA, doesn't appear eager to try. Maybe he will press for changes in the next bargaining agreement, though it's difficult to imagine a union this timid negotiating from a position of strength.

In the meantime, Goodell is free to punish players any way he chooses, without interference.

In his reinstatement message to Vick, Goodell wrote, "As I have said in other cases, it is actions that count."

That goes for players trying to get out of the doghouse. And for the union that represents them.

Bob Molinaro, (757) 446-2373, bob.molinaro@pilotonline.com