Sports have always had some characters who have found themselves on the wrong side of morality when they navigate through success. Whether it’s UFC’s Jon Jones’ doping scandal, Tiger Woods’ infidelity, or one of the more recent ones, the alleged Jake Retzlaff assault, but only a handful of people bounce back after something as serious as what Michael Vick went through.

It’s been nearly two decades since Michael Vick’s fall from NFL grace made national headlines. But somehow, 18 years later, the former No. 1 pick is still finding new ways to inspire. On the field, Vick changed the way we viewed quarterbacks. Off it? He’s still rewriting the comeback story. Because this story needs a long, long time.

If you caught Vick on the Got Sole podcast with Johnathan Dimodica, you probably felt it too. The vibe was of a real and honest man, not someone who is seeking aggressive redemption, but of someone who is repenting. When asked about how he got back up, Vick said, “I mean, this is like a boxing match,” Vick said, reflecting on the aftermath of his 21-month prison sentence. “If you get knocked down and you ain’t all the way knocked out cold and you can get back rise back up to your feet, then you going to rise back up to your feet. I was down, but I won’t out but I still woke up every day with opportunity.”

It wasn’t just a metaphor for Vick. He has lived through that metaphor, and that too when he was in his prime. For Vick, prison took a better part of his career, and it tested his core. But as he puts it, the harshest lesson turned out to be the most transformative. “What I learned being away is that as long as you don’t take my freedom away, I still got equal opportunity just like everybody else,” he said. 

“I guess I learned the value of freedom the hard way, and everybody don’t get to learn that lesson, but for me it was destined in my life.” And yeah, the comeback is a work in progress. Vick says he still feels the pressure, still wakes up with a chip on his shoulder, still grinding like it’s 4th-and-long. “Even to this day, still feel like I got to prove to myself or my family or whatever is driving me or motivating me to keep going and keep moving and keep trying to reach new heights,” he said. “I guess that’s what I try to do.”

Very few athletes get to pull off the second act Vick has. Even fewer get welcomed back with open arms. But Vick’s never asked for pity or praise. Just another shot. And whether it’s mentoring young athletes, raising awareness, or simply sharing lessons the hard way, he’s a living, breathing example of ‘fall seven times, stand up eight.’

Norfolk State’s all-in gamble on redemption

If you thought Michael Vick’s story peaked with that Philly comeback or those vintage Madden runs, think again. Norfolk State’s decision to hand him the reins after a 4–8 season trumps both of those. A program hungry for culture, change, and credibility just hired a man whose life has been a walking documentary. You don’t bring in Vick for safe pressers and 7-win seasons. You bring in Vick because if there’s one person who understands how to fight back from rock bottom, it’s him.

And now, Vick is coaching through his past. On the Got Sole podcast, he opened up with honesty. When host Jonathan DiModica asked about the world giving him a second chance, Vick said, “I don’t think it was really up to the world, man. I think it was just God-giving… it was just God, man. You know, spirit. I believe in the spirit, the Holy Spirit. And, if that was on people’s hearts to… invite me into that space, their presence, to try to instill the right qualities in me, the right ability to make rational decisions.. And I was like, man, I appreciate that.” And that love? He’s turning it into fuel, pressure, and purpose. “It comes with pressure,” he admitted. “But it’s cool, man. I like it.”

Then came the gut punch when he was asked what starting from scratch actually looked like? Vick answered with trademark realness, “Ain’t no plan. You just gotta—like, my plan was to play. I was still young.” At one point, he had negative $1,000 in his bank account. Let that sink in. The same guy with a $100 million Falcons deal came out of prison with less than zero. But instead of folding, he fought. “Thank God I had the right people in my corner,” he said. And now, that rebuilder is walking the Norfolk sidelines, headset on, ready to pass the torch.