Wicked Vick

Even in practice, Falcons QB makes jaws drop

Michael Vick's feet were pointed inward, making the Falcons quarterback look like a cross between the world's most exhilarating football player and a pigeon emerging from a tequila-filled birdbath. It had been a long, hot summer day at Atlanta's training camp in Greenville, S.C., and this play against the team's second-team defense seemed to signal disaster for the Falcons offense.

Then, in an instant, Vick turned day-old grits into chicken salad, blowing the minds of everyone in attendance. "All of a sudden the dude hops forward," recalls former Chargers running back Natrone Means, who's working with Atlanta's running backs this summer as part of the NFL's minority coaching fellowship. "Before we knew what happened, he had a 10-yard gain. I'm telling you, this kid is just sick."

Take it from "The Bomb" -- even on the practice field, Vick is setting a new standard for explosiveness. Training camp practices can drag on like a meandering Phish jam session, but when Vick is involved, there's always the potential for a Must-See TD.

"It's something new every day, and every time he amazes you," says Falcons quarterbacks coach Mike Johnson, citing a recent play involving Vick and his new prime target, former Buffalo Bills blur Peerless Price. "Mike took the snap and got immediate pressure, so he sort of stepped forward to avoid it and slid to his left," Johnson recalled. He took a little jump step to rise up over the line and, with neither foot planted, threw a dead-strike, 55-yard spiral to Price in the corner of the end zone."

We've already seen Vick's improvisational flair in games -- even when we didn't know exactly what we were watching. Remember his 173-yard rushing effort -- an NFL record for a quarterback -- against the Vikings last December? We all recall the 46-yard run that ended that game in overtime, as Minnesota defenders Corey Chavous and Greg Biekert comically collided while Vick zipped past them. Earlier in the contest, however, Vick ran one in from 28 yards out on a play that didn't exist. "No one will admit this," says Atlanta tight end Alge Crumpler, "but that was actually a missed handoff. Most quarterbacks get happy feet when that happens; Mike tucked the ball in and followed his fullback. The coaches put the play in the playbook the next week."

Then there was the 44-yard touchdown run against Carolina in October, a play on which Vick took off and looked especially vulnerable. "Over the headset, you could hear every single offensive coach screaming, 'Get out of bounds!'" Johnson recalls. "Then it was, 'Nice run, Mike!'"

Before the 2003 season begins, you'll be reading plenty more about Vick in the pages of Sports Illustrated, and you can bet that ritual will be repeated often over the next decade or so. As we continue our abbreviated training camp tour, I'll leave you with a haunting quote from Keith Brooking, Atlanta's Pro Bowl middle linebacker and a man not prone to exaggeration.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Brooking says. "I look at Mike, and I can see a tremendous difference. He's improved dramatically. He's going to do some amazing things. Just wait and see."

PEERLESS PRICE -- ALL IN A NAME: Atlanta's price for acquiring its dangerous wideout was a first-round draft choice -- and a seven-year, $37.5 million contract that included a $10.5 million signing bonus. The Falcons aren't expecting Price, acquired in a trade with the Bills in March, to be peerless, but they'd settle for something close to that.

"Peerless is up there with Terrell Owens and Isaac Bruce as a premier receiver," Falcons cornerback Ray Buchanan says. "He runs way better routes than Randy Moss. The guy has these large-ass hands that catch everything; he's unbelievable."

Sitting in a sushi restaurant in downtown Greenville last week, Buchanan chowed on another spicy tuna roll and completed his thought. "Now there's pressure on Dan [Reeves] and Mike to get that boy the balls he deserves!"

Buchanan then took a sip of his Sapporo, something Price is not prone to do. Though he makes an occasional exception, such as the Amaretto he enjoyed while kicking it with Vick and some of his other soon-to-be-new teammates at a trendy Buckhead, Ga., club last March, Price does not imbibe. "I don't drink or smoke anything," Price says. "Never have, really, and never will."

So go ahead, it's OK: Call him Beerless Price.

THE PLACE TO BE: I'm still bummed that the Chargers abandoned their longtime summer home in La Jolla, Calif., and I'm convinced their move 110 miles up the freeway to Carson, a suburb of Los Angeles, to the Home Depot Center is motivated by owner Alex Spanos' desire to move his team to L.A. That said, after spending a day at the team's sparkling new complex, I can see the appeal, especially from a player's perspective.

With a WTA tour event taking place at the adjacent tennis facility and an L.A. Galaxy practice being staged at the state-of-the-art soccer stadium, a walk from the practice field to the Chargers' locker room felt like being in the Olympic Village. There was Kim Clijsters, stretching her hamstrings in the players' lounge ... a couple of Galaxy players schmoozing it up in the Chargers' training room ... but no rock stars, but only because it was a slow day.

Last weekend, the Dave Matthews Band played a pair of shows at the 27,000-seat stadium, which also hosted the recent MLS All-Star Game and will be the site of the Women's World Cup final in October. Three days later, wideout Tim Dwight was still seething. "We were locked down in meetings, and I couldn't go to either show," Dwight complained. "I was bitter. Our equipment guys went, and Jennifer [Rojas, a public relations assistant] saw both shows, and here I am, the biggest fan on the team, and I didn't get to see a minute. Then, to make it worse, I found out that [Dave Matthews] was walking around down by the locker rooms, and [Doug] Flutie and some other guys got to meet him. I don't know what I even would have said, because I would have felt like a dork. But it would've been cool to see him up close."

Of some consolation to Dwight was the fact that Tuesday, he got to meet Martina Navratilova, merely the greatest tennis player of all time. "She wants to come out and run some routes [Thursday]," Flutie said. "I'm sure she'll be good at it, too." After practice Wednesday, Flutie threw the ball around with Maria Sharapova, the statuesque,16-year-old Russian who is a rising star on the WTA tour. "She was throwing the football up over her head, like it was a serve," Flutie reports. "And you know what? She was delivering perfect spirals."

FINE AND DANDY: I have a problem with the $200,000 fine the NFL leveled against Lions president Matt Millen for failing to interview a minority candidate before hiring Steve Mariucci as coach. First of all, the amount should have been larger -- say, $500,000. More important, commissioner Paul Tagliabue should have collected the money from Lions owner William Clay Ford, rather than an employee such as Millen.

If Ford has any integrity, he'll pick up the tab for Millen's fine as it is. But if the league is serious about reversing decades of injustice, it needs to go after the fat cats who sign the checks.

GLARE APPARENT: Hey, Mike Holmgren: Regarding that nasty look you gave me while I was interviewing linebacker Chad Brown after the Seahawks' afternoon practice in Cheney, Wash., on Tuesday: Don't you know I have eyes in the back of my head?

It's all good, big guy. I still love you.

BALANCE OF POWER: For what it's worth, I'm thumbing through the Seahawks' 2003 media guide and Holmgren, who once seemed to hold every significant title in the Seattle organization, is keeping a lower profile these days. His bio doesn't appear until page 20, and it's the 23rd profile in the guide.

NO JOKE: For personal reasons, and out of respect for the family, I'm not going to share too many of my thoughts regarding Seahawks quarterback Trent Dilfer, who lost his 5-year-old son, Trevin, in April after a battle with heart disease. I'll just say that Trent and his wife, Cass, are exceptionally strong and graceful people, and I'm sure being apart during training camp this year is particularly difficult.

Journalists aren't supposed to openly root for athletes, but I have no problem admitting that I will continue to pray for Trent and Cass and their three daughters, and that has absolutely nothing to do with football.

OK, MAYBE ONE JOKE: Dilfer and I talked for a while after the Seahawks' morning practice, and awhile later I saw him heading into the dining hall that has been set up for the Seahawks at Eastern Washington University. He was wearing a yellow, boxy, foamy cap with "Mustang" written in red script handwriting.

"[Matt] Hasselbeck and I are having a bad hat contest," Dilfer explained. "There's a liquor store down the road that sells some beauties."

NOT GIZZLE, MY NIZZLE: As a grateful Northern California resident, I can bag on my hometown with the best of them. But there are times when L.A. is so deliciously unselfconscious that I can't help but adore the nation's greatest non-NFL city, and one of those moments unfolded Wednesday afternoon as I drove east through Santa Monica on the 10, a few minutes after emerging from a spontaneous body-surfing session in the Pacific: Snoop Dogg, phoning a deejay on Power 106 to offer his wholehearted support for his "dawg Kobe" and to remind listeners that the Lakers' star is "innocent until proven guilty."

There's no word as to whether Dr. Dre will weigh in with expert medical analysis, but it wouldn't surprise me.

Sports Illustrated senior writer Michael Silver sounds off weekly on SI.com.

 

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