The Chair-Armed Quarterback

Because I'm right, dammit, and it's cheaper than either booze or therapy.

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Location: Daejeon, Korea, by way of Detroit

Just your average six-foot-eight carbon-based life form

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Reasonable Doubt, Dogs, and Michael Vick

It has been said that those who love either sausage or politics should not watch them being made.

This is where we find ourselves with regard to Michael Vick and the growing cloud of smoke coming from his Virginia residence where malfeasance may or may not have occurred.

It has been alleged that Vick is engaged in dog fighting. For the sake of any future trials in real courts, I must use the word alleged...because it hasn't been "proved" in a court of law yet.

See, in the Court of Public Opinion, where I am Judge, Jury, and Executioner, I am allowed and encouraged to take the following stands as scripture: where there's smoke, there's fire...and if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and looks like a duck, it's probably a duck. In the Court of Public Opinion, reasonable doubt is not the standard: reasonable "how the hell could it be otherwise?" is the standard.

Thus, when I hear about a website that promotes a breed of dogs known for fighting, and when I hear about a property in Virginia where upwards of 70 dogs were found emaciated and wounded, and when I hear that the same property in Virginia also revealed evidence of the kinds of equipment used to train fighting dogs, and THEN when I hear that all of the above are owned by one Michael Vick, and that one Michael Vick is always at the property, me being somewhat simple about such things, I'm thinking that Michael Vick is guilty of all of the above.

Here's where it gets twisted.

As Alonzo Harris of "Training Day" could tell us, it's not what you know, it's what you can prove.

By prove, we mean "beyond a reasonable doubt."

Enter prosecutor Gerald Poindexter.

Because he works for the state of Virginia, at the largess of the voting public, Mr. Poindexter keeps his job on the basis of his won-lost record. In other words, prosecutors who are at or around .500 in the pursuit of their sworn duties are probably not sworn in a second time...and, considering that prosecutors often have higher political goals in mind (one William Jefferson Clinton was once an Attorney General), most will only seek to prosecute those cases which are, and you'll pardon the sports jargon, "slam-dunk" cases.

But, you'll say, what the hell, he owned the property; he owned the dogs; he owned the training gear; and he even had a website, for (sexual activity)'s sake.

To which Gerald Poindexter might say: "All too true; however, unless we can incontrovertibly show him on the grounds and visibly abusing the animals in question, forcing them to perform acts which are illegal in the Commonwealth of Virginia, we cannot prosecute him."

In other words, we need a Gil Grissom explanation, or we need video a bit more explicit than Pamela Anderson's...or Paris Hilton's...or Chyna's...or that chick from Survivor...or Kim Kardashian's...okay, I got a little sidetracked, so blame a guy...you get the point: we need the kind of evidence that NO ONE could say was fake...like that news lady one...okay, okay, I'm all better now.

We need the kind of evidence that a prosecutor looking for a promotion would try in a court of law...in other words, the kind of evidence that just doesn't exist outside of a movie on Oxygen.

Of course, Mr. Poindexter will go through the necessary motions, because heaven forbid that he appear to be less than diligent in the pursuit of his duties. He'll assign stolid men to the case, men who aren't at all swayed by fame, fortune, and the occasional bribe, and, by coincidence, haven't left their desks in over 17 years. They will bring him back a report that indeed confirms the malfeasance that has already been plastered on the covers of sports pages everywhere, and Mr. Poindexter will then proffer charges to someone we've never heard of.

Worse, you'd have an easier time connecting this person to Kevin Bacon than Michael Vick.

Thus, justice will be served, or at least greeted politely before being seated in the back, and Ron Mexico will continue to frustrate fantasy football owners the world over.

I wouldn't waste something like that on a dog.

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