Finally Free (24 page)

Hoping I could soon return to the NFL, I exercised during my confinement in an upstairs workout room. But it was far from what pro football players are used to using. I weighed about 225 pounds when I got out of prison—about fifteen to seventeen pounds more than my normal playing weight. I really couldn't do much at the house. The room was so small, and I didn't have free weights like I prefer to use. I had an elliptical machine, a treadmill, and an ab lounger. I'd run on the treadmill and break a sweat, but I couldn't open up a sprint, couldn't run outside, and couldn't get my body in tip-top shape.

During those two months, I was required to wear an ankle bracelet that allowed probation officers to monitor my location at all times. Other than when specifically permitted, such as going to work, I wasn't allowed to venture beyond about a fifty-yard radius around the house.

The monitor on my ankle bracelet was extremely accurate. On the last night before my home confinement ended, I was on the sidewalk talking to friends, and I apparently drifted just past the
boundary. My probation officer called and asked, “Why did Mike just leave the house? Why is he out of range right now?” But I was standing right there! It got real sensitive toward the end of my confinement. I couldn't wait to be done with that little machine.

I enjoyed being home, but home confinement is truly home confinement. You can't leave to go anywhere except for work—not even to the store to get a gallon of milk.

Perhaps the greatest blessing for me after my release from prison was getting reacquainted with my family.

It felt like I never left. All we did was bond. I was determined never to return to the wild, partying ways that eventually landed me in trouble in Atlanta.

Just the memory of having to leave my family in the first place was so sobering. It was very hard when I left for prison because London had just been born. She was only one month old, and I can't get those two beautiful years back. I was leaving Kijafa, who'd had a C-section, and it was hard for her to get around. I was leaving Jada, my oldest daughter, who I helped Kijafa care for as a newborn. And I was leaving Mitez—whose heart was broken when he saw his father's potential prison sentence come on the television. I knew what I was leaving behind. Being reunited was extra-special.

Like Coach Dungy advised, I became focused on being a family man.

The children caused me to slow my life down. They mean more to me than anything else in this world. If I have something to get done, or if I have an obligation, I primarily want to make sure I spend quality time with them first. It's important to me because my schedule is often overbooked and busy. I want them to know I can't be there all the time, but I'm doing the best I can. I put them first.

My life now is focused around family, and I love my family members. Each one of them is unique. Each relationship is very important to me and has been crucial to my development as a man.

Now I strive to be the man God called me to be; not for myself, but for them. It is more important to be a husband and father than it is for me to be a football player. For them, I will be the strong leader of my house that I needed to be before my troubles began.

Coming home wasn't just about getting out of prison and back to Virginia; it was more than that. It was about returning to the foundations of my life—faith and family.

Chapter Eleven

Starting Over

“I had no margin for error.”

 

O
nce my home confinement ended, I nervously awaited meeting with NFL commissioner Roger Goodell concerning my possible reinstatement to the league. I deeply regretted lying to him about my involvement in dogfighting, and I looked forward to having an opportunity to make amends and regain his confidence.

The opportunity came one week after my federal sentence was completed.

I was so excited to see him and talk to him again, to apologize face-to-face, and to try and reconcile our relationship and the credibility I'd had with him at one time. I had spent so many countless hours thinking about what I would say and how I would approach the entire conversation.

I went into the meeting with this whole dissertation of what I wanted to say—things like, “I'm sorry, and I should've told the truth” or “I was involved, and I feel so bad because I let a lot of people down, including you.”

But the first thing Commissioner Goodell said was, “We're not here to talk about the past. We're here to talk about how you're going to change your life moving forward—how you're going to better yourself and correct all the mistakes you made and how we can prevent you from going down that path again.”

When I saw the look in his eyes—the intensity in his face—and heard what he was saying, I knew he was in my corner. I didn't know exactly how I would be reinstated, but I realized I had the chance to rebuild myself, my image, and my self-confidence.

Initially, I was reinstated only for the preseason, with the possibility of missing the first few weeks of the regular season. (That would later change.) Nevertheless, I was thrilled to have a chance to sign with an NFL team again.

The chance that a team might want me and take the risk on me was greatly enhanced by Coach Dungy's unwavering support. He encouraged teams to sign me, and he served as an advocate for me.

Coach put his name and reputation on a kid—a man—who was coming out of prison and didn't know what direction his professional career would take him. Coach Dungy basically reached out to Commissioner Goodell and to a couple of teams, and said, “Believe in this guy. I'm sending him to you with my blessings. Trust him.”

Without Coach Dungy, it probably wouldn't have worked; I probably wouldn't have been reinstated. I needed a prominent
figure who had integrity, respect, and the spiritual blessings to help me get a job in the NFL.

Coach promoted me despite receiving criticism for doing so.

When Coach Dungy spoke out for me, this is what he told people:

I think Mike understands about having Christ in his life, and that God has given him this second chance. As much as he doesn't want to let me or other people down, he doesn't want to let the Lord down again. I really believe that.

That was one of the reasons I didn't feel I was taking a gamble or going out on a limb. I felt like he was going to come out and do the right things. I had no idea if he would get his athleticism back and be able to play quarterback, but I didn't worry about him going down the wrong path once he got out.

My agent, Joel Segal, told me Buffalo and Cincinnati were interested in signing me. But it came as a big surprise when I was informed that Philadelphia was strongly in the mix too. The Eagles already had my friend Donovan McNabb as their starter, plus a talented young backup, Kevin Kolb, a second-round draft pick in 2007.

Even though Philadelphia was already loaded at quarterback, it actually was a better situation for me than Buffalo. The Bills
would have been screaming for me to play immediately, and I knew I wasn't ready or in shape to do that yet. Because I was fresh out of prison and no one knew what the public's reaction would be, it probably would have been a bad deal to put me in a situation where I was going to have to play immediately. We were all conscious of that.

More important to my comeback than public opinion was my need to get in football shape: it was huge. Remember, I weighed 225 pounds instead of my usual 208 to 210.

The Eagles kept their interest in me top secret. My close friend CJ Reamon and I drove to Philadelphia from Virginia and stayed overnight at the home of Eagles owner Jeffrey Lurie after first meeting with team president Joe Banner. I played a game of chess with Mr. Lurie's son and also talked with Mr. Lurie's wife, Christina.

My interview with Mr. Lurie was very intense. He has a way of asking you questions and trying to get a read on you and what you're thinking. He really grilled me—wanting to know if I was sincere, if I wanted to take advantage of my second chance, and if I was serious about football this time around.

I could tell the Eagles put a lot of thought into it. I didn't expect it to be easy, and it wasn't.

They were sticking their necks out for me and didn't want me doing anything to smack them in their faces. They told me, “Don't embarrass the organization.” I made them a promise that I wouldn't.

The next morning, I signed a one-year contract with an option for a second year.

Once again, I was part of an NFL team.

It was great because I had no pressure on me. The Eagles were just going to mix me in with a couple of packages and give me time to get myself in shape. What more could you ask for?

This time around, I knew I would give anything for the organization that I belonged to.

After a press conference, I reported to practice, taking the field for the first time in more than two years. It was so gratifying to have a new opportunity to play in the NFL. Eagles coach Andy Reid took particular interest in my recovery because his own sons, Garrett and Britt, were imprisoned on drug-related charges in 2007. I think Coach Reid totally understands the meaning of a second chance. Most people don't have to experience walking into a prison and seeing their son or daughter incarcerated.

You just see so many guys locked up, enduring wasted lives and idle time. If you know that individual and you know their heart and what type of effect they can have out in society, then you have a little sympathy for them. I think that was the situation with Coach Reid. He understood I was a good person, a good kid, and all I wanted to do was play football. I just got caught up doing the wrong things. Not just dogfighting, but everything else that came along too.

My signing was met with mixed reactions from Philadelphia fans. Some supported me, while others blasted the move, including the owner of a sandwich shop who vowed never to serve me food. But you know what? People have said so many things about
me that it doesn't even bother me when they say negative stuff—unless it's something I know is absolutely not true.

But not everyone had negative feelings toward me. I found two great places to have a cheesesteak: Pat's King of Steaks and Jim's Steaks. The first time I visited Jim's, they recognized me and gave me a cheesesteak on the house.