Finally Free (20 page)

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Authors: Michael Vick,Tony Dungy

BOOK: Finally Free
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It was kept private that I spent five days in the Atlanta Penitentiary—in my former NFL city—while in transit back to Leavenworth after my bankruptcy court hearing. My hands and feet were shackled for the bus ride from Petersburg to Atlanta, which lasted
about eight hours. I'll never forget the Atlanta Penitentiary, seeing big rats running through it during the night. It was just nasty.

No matter the prison, they were all such unsanitary environments. There might be eighty guys sharing three bathroom stalls. It's uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. Roaches crawled on my bed and on me at night, and I had to sleep with earplugs and with a skull cap. There were mice under my bed. I had M&M's under my bed, and I had little mice eating my M&M's. I couldn't sleep for anything; it was impossible.

You heard those doors slamming all the time. But as loud as the doors were, and as unsanitary as the prisons were, I remember specific smells the most. If I smell a certain shampoo now, it brings back the memories.

It was only by the grace of God that I made it through all that and didn't break down. I knew I had to stay strong and stand tall for my family.

While at Leavenworth, I'd gather with other inmates in TV rooms and watch NFL games. Beforehand, we went to the commissary for pizza, chips, popcorn, and other game-day snacks, just like fans all over America. And that's what I was in those days—a huge fan.

What better way to spend time than watching the game you love? I'm a big fan of football, even when I'm not playing. I make my own evaluations of guys. It was sort of like being a coach.

Despite being in prison and unable to play in the NFL, it wasn't
overly hard to watch the games—except for the fact that I was surrounded by a room full of self-proclaimed experts.

I laugh about that now, but those guys thought they knew what they were talking about—thought they knew more than me. Seriously, they were just an unbelievable group. Some of them had played some level of football before, and there were guys you never expected who knew a lot about football. Sometimes, I think they knew too much.

I would get hounded with questions. I found myself having to explain certain plays. Again, it was like being a coach, and it helped somewhat to keep my football mind sharp.

My friends and I also watched
106 & Park
every day, college football,
Dancing with the Stars, Entourage
, various documentaries, and
SportsCenter
. It's what guys do every day in prison. But that's a small glimpse of the good.

In the meantime, there's the bad. The crime. The danger. The rats. The roaches.

At least I had God and football.

Despite the difficult environment, the people who befriended me, and those who I befriended, made it bearable. I hung out with Antoine from St. Louis, Cornell from Chicago, and Huey from New Orleans every day, and all three made me laugh, letting my mind escape for a while.

They were all guys who helped me get through. They helped me because each day is a struggle and is stressful. You just want to
go home. You need people to pass the time with. You need people to walk on the track with. You have to be able to find ways to get through the tough times.

We found a way to make a positive out of a negative. We all kind of stuck together. We all ate together and lived the prison life together. Antoine and I would stay up for hours some nights, talking. We talked about what we were going to do, how we were going to live when we got out, and really just anticipated getting out.

I also did plenty of autograph signing for the other inmates and even for some of the guards—even though that wasn't supposed to happen. When I first came in, it was like, “No autographs!” If they caught anyone with my signature, they were going to consider it contraband. But when I left, I had eight or nine pieces of paper or memorabilia in my face, with guards asking me for my autograph.

Despite playing in a prison basketball league and being in good enough shape to help my team to a championship, there was no way I could stay in NFL playing shape. But I tried to stay as fit as possible.

There were times at Leavenworth when I had access to weights and exercise equipment, but other times they weren't available—depending upon whether inmates were following the rules. Whenever someone got in trouble, those privileges would be taken away. It could be because of any incident. If someone got
caught with alcohol or cigarettes, or if someone got caught with a cell phone, the item would be taken away—and everyone else's privileges along with it.

When I did have weights, I tried to do upper-body exercises and also squats to keep my legs in shape. We had to make a squat bench. When we had weights, we squatted. When we didn't have the weights because they'd been taken away, we started squatting with sandbags. Then they took the sandbags. We had to be creative to work out.

We also sometimes had access to two treadmills, and I regularly ran on those pretty intensely. I had to work my lower body, but I couldn't keep it in shape. No matter the obstacle, I always thought,
I'm still going to be one of the fastest quarterbacks in the league. When I get out, I'll have some time to get in shape.

Most of the time I worked out with a guy named Dino. He was from Chicago, and there was a smile on his face at all times. Dino would liven up your day. He was around fifty years old—just a great guy. He would do anything for you.

He would drink diet sodas every day, and I started drinking them when I worked out too. My favorite was Diet Coke, and my favorite snack was grapefruit—not the typical food of an elite athlete, I know, but you take what you can get.

Overall, the food was bad. When I first went to prison, I lost twelve pounds. So, they had to up my portions. Some of us went on a no-carb diet and did a lot of abdominal work and had pictures taken of our abs. The pictures were hung in the commissary for a competition we came up with. Inmates had to pay six dollars
anytime they wanted a photograph taken, whether it was with a family member, a friend, or just of themselves. But we never got our ab photos back, apparently because the prison officials didn't want guys taking their pictures with me. They didn't know who was going to sell them or what was going to happen.

Even though we never got our pictures, guys were ripped up. And I still had twelve-pack abs!

As much as I worked out, and as much as I believed I wouldn't get so far out of shape that I wouldn't be able to play in the NFL again one day, there were times I wasn't so convinced. Honestly, there were days—a lot of days—that I wondered if I would play again. However, I thought the prospect was good because I'd been put in the NFL substance abuse program by the league. I think they did that mainly because they believed I had a future in the NFL. But I didn't know when that future would be. Would it be 2009? Would it be 2010? I kept thinking,
My skills may erode by then.
I just didn't know what my future held, which made it hard sometimes to stay positive.

When I was a teen, my faith and relationship with God kept me focused. While in prison, I was blessed and fortunate to gain very strong support from a somewhat unexpected person: Tony Dungy.

I'm thrilled and honored that it didn't take Coach Dungy long to say yes when my attorney, Billy Martin, called to ask if he would visit me in Leavenworth. Coach Dungy and I had met in Japan nearly four years earlier in August 2005, when I was with
the Falcons for a preseason exhibition against his Indianapolis Colts. We didn't get to spend a lot of time together in Japan, but we learned that we shared an interest in fishing and agreed to try to plan a get-together in the future.

The fishing expedition never happened, which Coach Dungy says he regretted, especially after my legal troubles began surfacing. Coach Dungy says it hurt him that we never got together to fish, because perhaps our conversation would have led to me sharing some of my problems with him. “That's what runs through your mind,” he told me. “But it didn't happen. We missed our time.”

As far as I was concerned, Coach Dungy's arrival at Leavenworth on May 5, 2009, was right on time. It came fifteen days before my scheduled release to home confinement and filled me with encouragement for my future, both in life and in football.

I was very excited and, at the same time, very nervous about him coming. I mean, this was Coach Dungy—a powerful man, very smart and humble—and I knew what his life was all about. I knew the principles he was dedicated to: he was a family man and a man of God.

When I went to the visitation area, I was dressed not as an NFL player but as an inmate wearing an orange jumpsuit. Coach Dungy says, however, that he was pleased with how he found me. This is what he told others about our experience together:

I wanted to see if Michael looked like what I remembered, and he really did. He still looked like a young guy. He had bright eyes. He was excited, and he was looking
forward to getting out and bouncing back as a person and as a dad. Appearance-wise, he didn't look a lot different to me. That was refreshing to see.

I have been in a lot of prisons, so I wasn't shocked about the environment. Even for me, Leavenworth is a place you've heard about. It was kind of an awe-inspiring feeling to be there. He and I talked a lot about what it meant to be in prison. He came to the conclusion a lot of people come to—that when suddenly you don't have your freedom, you're not able to make decisions or communicate with people, and the things you took for granted, you don't take for granted anymore.

I think it was encouraging for Michael to see a football coach and be able to talk about football. It wasn't something he was able to do much during his time in prison.

Coach Dungy was right. I loved the visit so much that I didn't want him to leave.

I remember him looking into my eyes and wanting to know the truth about everything and how I felt. It was a special moment for me.
Why would Coach Dungy come all the way from his home in Tampa to visit me in Kansas?
I wondered. I knew there was a reason behind all of it, and I was just so thankful and delighted to be in his presence.

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