Gurney's Inn
August 29, 2007

Jerry's Ink


I have a great idea on how to how to solve this whole Michael Vick mess. It will call for the mother of all plea bargains.

If my idea is adopted, Michael Vick can go back to playing football even before this preseason is over.

All we need is for his five high-priced lawyers, the U.S. District Judge Henry E. Hudson, and the Feds to use their brains.

What good does it do to send this dope to jail? It's not going to be a deterrent for some of the other mental midgets playing football. Hell, some of these morons eat pit bulls for breakfast. So here is my plan.

First, Judge Hudson must sentence Michael Vick to serve the maximum five years. For a quarterback like Vick, that would a life sentence. His career would be over.

Then Judge Hudson should sentence Vick to serve his time at ADX Florence, Colorado. This is the place where the federal government puts its "worst of the worst" prisoners, mainly felons sent from other federal prisons after they killed their fellow inmates, or, on occasion, their guards. This prison is so tough even the warden has tattoos all over his body and carries a shank. ADX is in one of the worst federal prisons known to mankind. It's sort of an Abu Ghraib for quarterbacks.

Then Judge Hudson should set forth the conditions by which Vick can avoid sleeping every night under a 370-pound guy named Bubba. No, Bubba isn't a football player, but he is interested tight ends. What's more, there won't be anyone else in the cell to blow a whistle and call Bubba for holding.

In order to save himself from jail, Vick must, for the rest of his career, give half of any bonus, along with half of his salary (which I believe is around $10 million a year) to charities for pets like the ASPCA, the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and to those wonderful people who run ARF here in the Hamptons.

Let me make this clear: He cannot donate the money and get a tax break. But he must pay his fine of millions of dollars each year. At the very least, the fines add up to about $35 million over the next seven years. Just think about how many dogs could live the good life, eating great food and getting great medical care, all paid for by that animal Michael Vick.

Think of the puppies and kittens that won't have to be put to sleep because there will be plenty of money to care for them. And the money will keep coming year after year until a football goon hits Vick's knee with his head and helmet during a game and Michael limps off and joins those other gimpy retired athletes in Athletes' Purgatory, which is ESPN (not to be confused with CBS Sports, which is Athletes' Hell).

What we are talking here is extortion, plain old simple extortion. Extortion is as American as apple pie. We have plenty of precedents here. How do you think the U.S. government got the cigarette companies to give so much money for anti-smoking commercials? The deal was simple: You want to continue selling tobacco, pay up.

When it comes to athletes, who is going to yell when a player who breaks the law is squeezed so that he has to pay out half his salary for life to a legitimate charity? And I'm not talking about the United Way here, with their dumb self-serving commercials. I'm talking about charities that actually give all the money they collect to the people or creatures that need it.

Drunken driving? You can't get back into the league unless you donate half your salary for life to MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Driving). Battering your spouse or girlfriend? You can't play football until you are willing to donate half your salary for life to worthy charities like The Retreat in the Hamptons, which takes in and protects battered women. The Michael Vick solution can apply to any sport that has to deal with talented but unruly goons.

What a brilliant solution. Hell, I feel like sort of a modern day Republican Robin Hood — stealing from the dumb and corrupt and giving to the needy.


(Thanks to my good friend Marissa Thompson)

The Dress.

Jennifer's wedding day was fast approaching. Nothing could dampen her excitement — not even her parents' nasty divorce.

Her mother had found the PERFECT dress to wear and would be the best-dressed mother-of-the-bride ever!

A week later, Jennifer was horrified to learn that her father's new young wife had bought the exact same dress as her mother! Jennifer asked her stepmom to exchange it, but she refused.

"Absolutely not. I look like a million bucks in this dress, and I'm wearing it," she replied. Jennifer told her mother who graciously said, "Never mind, sweetheart. I'll get another dress. After all, it's your special day."

A few days later, they went shopping and did find another gorgeous dress. When they stopped for lunch, Jennifer asked her mother, "Aren't you going to return the other dress? You really don't have another occasion where you could wear it." Her mother just smiled and replied, "Of course I do, dear. I'm wearing it to the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding."


Howard Dean, the man whose loud mouth can ruin it all for the Democrats in 2008, seems to have disappeared.


Now that summer is over, people who have only stayed with their spouse so that they could travel to and from the Hamptons in the HOV lane on the crowded Long Island Expressway will be filing for divorce in record numbers.

If you wish to comment on "Jerry's Ink," send your message to

Site Search

2107 Capeletti Front Tile
Gurney's Inn