Finally Free (27 page)

“I've never seen anything like this!”

—Mike Tirico, ESPN play-by-play announcer

 

J
ust hours before we kicked off our season on September 12 against Green Bay, my high school coach and mentor, Tommy Reamon, told me something profound: “Something is going to happen in this game, and your life is going to change forever.”

Right
, I thought to myself.
What are you talking about? I'm the backup quarterback. I'm No. 2. Whatcha think is going to happen? Think I'm going to score three touchdowns from the shotgun running a quarterback draw?

As expected, Kevin Kolb entered the season and the game as our starting quarterback. Honestly, I figured it would stay that way the whole season. I thought Kevin would thrive and do well. And as I said, I was back in the NFL—that was a start—and I was content.

Kevin, however, sustained a concussion on a hard hit by Packers linebacker Clay Matthews at the end of the first half and was sidelined. I never want to see someone get hurt—especially a
teammate—no matter what position he plays and no matter what position I'm fighting for. I remember seeing Kevin on the ground, hoping and praying he'd go back into the game. I wasn't prepared. The only package I had was the Wildcat. I had studied throughout the week, but I hadn't studied thoroughly to the point of knowing the ins and outs of every concept. I was nervous because I didn't want to go out and embarrass myself.

In the locker room at halftime, I remember one of my teammates—I think it was Juqua Parker—coming up to me. “The door has been opened for you,” he said. “Whatcha gonna do? You gonna go through it or walk away from it?”

Each and every play that game, I wasn't trying to prove that I was back; I was just trying to win. I knew I had a shot to show everyone that I could still play the game. But I knew it was Kevin's team. More than anything, I was trying to show the Philadelphia coaches, potential teams, and football fans that I could still play. Remember, I didn't have a contract. I was auditioning for a potential job around the league.

We were down 20-3 that game, but we nearly pulled off a comeback win, losing to the eventual Super Bowl champions 27-20. I threw for 175 yards and a touchdown and ran for 103 yards on 11 carries.

I remember looking over at the Green Bay bench as I walked off the field that game.
One more half,
I said to myself.
One more half, and we would've destroyed you guys.

After the game, I talked to Coach Reamon again, and he said, “I told you.”

The way he prophesied that—I couldn't put it all together. I still don't know what to think of it. But when he told me that before the game, I could hear it in his voice. He wasn't just saying it. He was extremely adamant and passionate about what he was saying.

He was right.

Because Kevin wasn't cleared by team doctors, he was also sidelined the following week against Detroit. And for the first time since my prison sentence—for the first time since the 2006 season—I was starting.

We were going up against the Detroit Lions. They had a tough defense, so I knew it would be a challenge, but I was excited because I had more time to prepare and had been studying all week.

Still, my mindset had nothing to do with making an epic return to the NFL. We were 0-1 after our loss to Green Bay, so I kept telling myself,
We gotta win. We gotta win.
It was all I was thinking. On a personal level, I knew this was still Kevin's team; but if I played well, I might have a chance to earn a contract on another team. First and foremost, I needed to get the Eagles a victory.

Going into the game, however, was also bittersweet, because before every game I started in Atlanta, I had called my grandmother. I liked to check up on her and see how she was doing; and talking to someone I loved help take the pressure off me and put the game in its proper perspective. She calmed my nerves and helped me kick the butterflies.

Now, I didn't have that. She was gone. To this day, nobody plays that role, although before the Detroit game, I did call my pastor and we talked.

I cried in my room. It was sad that I couldn't share the moment with my grandmother.

I wish she could have seen that game. We beat Detroit 35-32, and I passed for 280-some yards. I did my job. As a backup quarterback, I helped get us the win, and improve our record to 1-1 for Kevin to take over the team for the remainder of the season.

I was on stage, and my phone kept vibrating in my pocket.

C'mon,
I was thinking to myself.
Is it
that
serious?

The week following our victory against Detroit, I was speaking to youth at a “What It Takes” event about the mistakes I'd made and the importance of making good choices. But my phone kept vibrating—over and over.

When I checked my phone, I had a text from Coach Reid saying, “Call me ASAP.”

I knew exactly what it was about. I knew he'd either tell me “You'll start this week,” or “Kevin isn't ready yet.”

I called Coach Reid.

He always starts phone conversations with a quick, “How ya doing?”

“Good,” I said.

Then there was a long, awkward pause.

“Look here,” he said, dragging the conversation out a little. “I'm gonna make you the starter.”

Coach Reid initially had said Kevin would remain the starter once he returned from injury, but then he changed his mind and named me the permanent starter.

I was amazed by the sudden change in my status. I was caught off guard because I had gotten so relaxed at being a backup that I started feeling like a backup.

I knew what it was like to be a starter in this league. I knew the pressure—what it takes and how much it can take out of you. And just like that
—boom—
I was back in that position. I was thinking,
Hold on, I didn't prepare for this. I'm not ready.

At Virginia Tech, I remember looking on that depth chart and seeing “Vick—No. 1.” I remember how proud I felt that I had fought and beat out Dave Meyer for the starting role. Being named the starter at Philly, however, was completely different.

There wasn't a competition between Kevin and me, because I had accepted the backup role. Philadelphia was his team. And I could live with that.

Right when I hung up the phone, I knew I had to get my mind right. I called my counselor, who I met with regularly through the NFL.

“Man, we gotta talk,” he said after I gave him the news.

In order to perform week in and week out and be consistent, I had to approach each game correctly from a mental standpoint. I was excited. But I was also nervous. This was something I didn't expect. It's tough to play in Philly, and it's easy to get booed on
Sunday. Who wants to get booed with your family in the stands? I sure didn't. All the ability in the world means nothing if you can't
think
and play. I needed to sharpen my mind.

It was hard to wrap my mind around everything that was happening. It was happening so fast. Sitting in a cell in Leavenworth, I never doubted that I'd play in the NFL again. I knew I would get there, and I knew I could start at some point. I just couldn't put a time frame on it.

The only thing I could go back to was that this was all God's plan. There was a reason behind it, so I was going to enjoy it, because I knew He was with me every step of the way.

Things became even more unbelievable as the season wore on.

We beat Jacksonville 28-3 in Week 3. I was motivated before the game by our chapel service. The speaker talked about how Jesus made the great sacrifice of dying on the cross for our sins. I had already asked Jesus to forgive my sins and be the Lord of my life, but I was sitting there thinking,
Man, all this for us? Why can't I sacrifice for Him?
I made a promise that day and thought to myself,
I'm going to sacrifice for Him and try to do the right things on a day-to-day basis.
Then I went out, and the Lord blessed me with a good game. I threw three touchdown passes and ran for another.

A few days later, my friend Arthur Blank—the owner of the Falcons—called to congratulate me and to talk, which meant a lot to me.

I was shocked that Mr. Blank called; but at the same time, I wasn't. We'd had a great relationship in Atlanta; I just didn't take advantage of everything he had to offer. He wanted nothing but
the best for me, and he probably would have liked to play the role of a mentor in my life. But I didn't want to continually come to him with questions and overstep my boundaries. As a man, I felt like I should be able to take care of myself and make my own decisions. But I was twenty-four or twenty-five. I wasn't a man. I was a kid. Knowing what I do now, I would go back and confide in Mr. Blank more, and things would have never ended up the way they did. But it happened.

“Take advantage of the opportunity,” he told me on the phone that day. “Don't lose sight of how you got into the position you're in. I'm rooting for you every game until we play you.”

Next was a big Redskins-Eagles showdown in Philly. The game had more than enough storylines to make it the national game of the week. It was a homecoming for former Eagles quarterback and my good buddy Donovan McNabb. The McNabb-returns-to-Philly talk was big, and so was a McNabb-versus-Vick theme, since Donovan had played a key role in the Eagles signing me the previous year.

I really wanted to win that game. I hadn't had too much success against Donovan; he and the Eagles beat us twice in the playoffs when I was with Atlanta.

The Redskins got off to a quick start, but we were in the midst of a rally when I suffered fractured ribs on a run near the goal line. I got sandwiched between two Washington defenders, including my former Atlanta teammate and friend, cornerback DeAngelo Hall. I had to leave the game, and the Redskins went on to win, 17-12.

I would miss three games because of the injury. And as disappointed as I was to miss out on the game against Donovan, I was more disappointed to miss the game against the Falcons. It was a game where Kevin led us to a 31-17 win.

Overall, we were 2-1 during the stretch while I was gone; Kevin did a very nice job. When I was healthy, Coach Reid put me back under center. I was still the starter.

I returned to the lineup for a November 7 matchup against Indianapolis, which was quarterbacked by Peyton Manning.

The Colts always seemed to be one of the best teams, so it was a huge confidence builder for us that we won 26-24. I threw one touchdown and ran for another.

It was great to have an opportunity to get out and play the game you love so dearly against some of the best competition. Going up against Peyton, I knew it was going to be a tough challenge, and I knew it would be a game that went down to the wire. We would have to do everything right.

We just put it all together against the Colts. And our locker room was absolutely crazy. Winning that game felt like we had won the Super Bowl.

The celebration was unique for a regular season game. Cornerback Asante Samuel and wide receiver DeSean Jackson were our primary cheerleaders.