Vick's storybook run slammed shut

PHILADELPHIA – Michael Vick(notes) had gotten "greedy," he said, and in that moment who could blame him? This entire fall had been about him regaining the confidence to be just that.

Now his Philadelphia Eagles were first-and-10 on the Green Bay Packers' 27-yard line, trailing by five – a touchdown being all that stood between another dramatic comeback victory, only this time in the playoffs.

All of Philly expected it; half of America maybe, too.

The whole season has been storybook for Michael Vick, this incredible character arc that took him from September when he was still a backup quarterback, ex-con and, in many circles, a societal pariah, to here in January where he was a redemptive tale on and off the football field. He'd become must-see TV, the biggest draw in football.

After all those long Leavenworth nights where a moment like this seemed an impossible dream, how wouldn't you believe glory isn't just a flick of a football away?

So Vick ignored a safety valve tailback running a short route and decided to go for pay dirt right there and right then. His pass to Riley Cooper(notes) was too short though. Green Bay's Tramon Williams(notes) sprung up and intercepted it.

And just like that, the sound of a captivating story ending enveloped the stadium.

It was silence.

All at once, all in a flash, this improbable run was done. There was just nothing to say.

Vick would hang his head, snap off his chin strap and shuffle off the field with his hands jammed into a warming pouch. As Green Bay finished off this 21-16 NFC wild-card victory, he'd sit by himself on the Eagles bench, too despondent to react to his teammates and coaches trying to console him.

"This one hurt more than any of my previous seasons," Vick said later. "[It's] because I expected so much out of myself. I know to come back and [have] an opportunity to play the position this year that I could play it at a high level. It's just disappointing."

Vick was the story of the year in the NFL. He was second string in Week 1. He was an MVP candidate by midseason. He was the most dangerous man in football in those final furious moments – darting, ducking and dashing the Eagles down the field. He'd shook off a turned ankle to get back out there and do his thing.

This was Michael Vick in the final minute. This was the next chapter.

"I thought we were going to win the game," he said. "I had an upbeat feeling about myself. I felt everything that had happened up until that point had happened so in the end we could be victorious and we'd be having a different conversation right now."

Eventually Vick got up off that bench. There were too many people desperate to lift up his spirits. Not just his teammates either.

It was a wedding line of Packers standing there: linebackers Clay Matthews(notes) and Desmond Bishop(notes) – who had just chased him all over the field – then old friends Donald Driver(notes) and Charles Woodson(notes). Soon Vick would join a group prayer at midfield, then more Packers telling him what he meant.

"When we were up greeting the captains before the game I told him how happy I was for him, how incredible his season was and for a fan how much fun it was to watch," said Packers QB Aaron Rodgers(notes), who outdueled Vick this day.

"For a guy who has paid his debt to society and gotten another chance – and deservedly so – to take advantage of it like he has, has been awesome," Rodgers continued. "He's a changed guy and an incredible player and it's really amazing to watch."

The impact of Vick's season extends beyond football and everyone understood that. There was something magical about the entire thing. So while the playoffs are always painful and losing locker rooms are always despondent, this felt a little different.

"It's just very emotional for us right now," DeSean Jackson(notes) said. "It's just frustrating."

Vick kept saying all the right things, which is what he's done all season. He took the blame. He explained his mistake. He praised his teammates. He vowed to work hard in the future. He appeared to appreciate the mere chance to throw that ill-fated pass.

He fully understood that in just a few months so much had changed for the better. Maybe that was the hardest part – realizing there wasn't more "better" to come.

"It's a great season," he acknowledged, "but the ultimate goal is to win the Super Bowl."

He said he'd stay in Philly and work out this offseason – "Watch a lot of tape." Right now, though, he doesn't have a contract and while the Eagles will almost certainly bring him back, Michael Vick is long past the days of taking anything for granted.

"I don't even know what's going to happen next year or where I'm going to be so I can't even say we are going to do it next year," he said.

Vick didn't even seem to care at this point. The finality was too profound. He kept going back to his mistakes.

"I certainly feel like I could have done a lot of things better. And I guess you just have to learn from it. That's life."

That's the life of Michael Vick.

Less than an hour later he was hugging family and friends in a back hallway of Lincoln Financial. He signed some autographs. Team employees and stadium workers stopped him to wish him well. He'd sucked everyone in on this wild ride and now they wanted to thank him for it.

Michael Vick just kept shaking his head and apologizing. He kept telling people he was sorry. Too greedy. Too fast. Too much.

He turned and headed for the exit, the end of a season of a lifetime.

He held his Nike cleats tightly in his left hand as he walked. He wasn't letting go of those for anything.