Disclaimer: This will never happen.
Say for a minute you’re Ted Thompson. You’ve just peeled your body out from within the tender big spoon embrace of Aaron Rodgers, hopped in your purple PT cruiser and headed off to 1265 Lombardi Avenue to put on the façade that you know what the hell you’re doing. You’ve never been one to make a splash that didn’t involve B.J. Raji and a tub of KY, but today is the day you, Theodore Thompson, become an icon.
You’ve already proven that appeasing Green Bay’s rabid fan base has zero priority on your ‘To-Do’ list. Rumor has it that you’ve flirted with an orgy of the biggest names in the game- Randy Moss, Julius Peppers, Larry Johnson, Tony Gonzalez- only to come away with none. his time it's different, though, isn't it Teddy? This time, it counts.
For better or for worse, you don't actually care what the fans want and would never go out of your way to do something to make them excited, but lucky for you they give a Poppinga about what you put on the field, and this time, there's an option that works both for you and the fans. The economy is in the worst shape it’s been in your lifetime. You are responsible for managing the only publicly-owned franchise in sports in the middle of this crisis. So while other teams might feel the hurt of the economy because their fans choose not to go to their games or buy their merchandise, your team is actually being run by taxpayers who are forced to get cheaper. The Patriots can always fall back on Bob Kraft’s millions, but the Packers don’t have that luxury, even in an age of revenue sharing. At some point, you have to shoulder your own weight.
Which brings us to Mr. Vick.
Is he the answer to your fiscal and competitive goals? No, not entirely. But he gives you an extra dimension, both on and off the field, which could push a nucleus of pretty good young talent to the next level, and give the publicly-owned Packers the kind of financial boost it could certainly use.
Sure, this is a huge risk. It may not even be a calculated risk. But doesn't it seem like the perfect storm to escape being a marginal franchise, by taking a stab at an opportunity in which the rewards seem to far outweigh the cons?
Worst case scenario? Rodgers starts the season slow, and Vick wants to play fresh off his suspension. The young Packers prove vulnerable to Vick, who plays the role of locker room cancer. The Packers finish with a similar, or worse, record (mostly because the team simply isn’t ready to win games...not because Vick is whining on the sidelines). Turns out the 3-4 didn't improve the D as much as you expected in one season. The offense regresses as John Kuhn is 0 for 15 in goal line situations. Vick is gone after a year regardless. You and McCarthy are gone in a blaze of orange.
Best case? Vick acclimates to a Packer locker room that actually appears to enjoy one another. Being in jail humbles him, and he makes little to no fuss of the fact that Gay-Rodg is running the show. In hunt-happy Wisconsin, Cheeseheads worship a man who killed animals as a side job. Jerseys sell like hotcakes. On the field, your team, which has been through the biggest distraction in the history of the NFL just a season ago, weathers the Vick storm and proves itself to be a solid bunch; just about good enough on its best days to win a loaded NFC North, but missing the extra bit necessary to realistically contend for the conference. Enter post-suspension Mike Vick. He gives you the luxury of a legit backup QB you simply don’t have right now behind fragile Rodgers, and an athletic dimension no one in the league has. McCarthy has proven to be an innovative offensive mind, and could do wonders with a talent like #7. The Wildcat formation was the talk of the league last year, but the WildDog package becomes the Bonds-ed up version, featuring someone that can actually throw (unlike Chad Pennington) and run (unlike Chad Pennington). Vickmania spreads faster than a brat-induced Suamico trailer park wildfire.
Vooooooooooooooooooooosh!
I’m not saying, I’m just saying, Teddy. Trust your boy McCarthy and roll the dice. You're the man now, dog.
