By necessity, trial lawyers have to be creative, even intentionally misleading. Before Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick accepted a plea bargain earlier this week, his legal dream team – Billy Martin, Lawrence Woodward Jr. and Daniel Meachum – pinned their defence on the concept that Vick was a mere stooge, manipulated by his friends as they used his home, wealth and money to stage dogfights, while he was blissfully unaware. But knowing what I know about Vick and his former friends and co-defendants – Purnell Peace, Quanis Phillips and Tony Taylor – it seems utterly ridiculous. It's actually reminiscent of the Simpsons episode in which a cadre of hardened Mafiosi claim immunity by blaming their entire operation on 10-year-old Bart. I met Vick once – long before he was accused of almost unbelievable cruelty to animals. Actually, I was one of many journalists mobbed around the superstar quarterback as he held court. Anyone could easily see, even feel the star quality that came from him. He's a handsome young man, and very charismatic. But there was something amiss when he began to talk. Not only did Vick use poor grammar that seemed at odds with his otherwise intelligent banter, but he treated every question and comment that wasn't abject fawning to be a personal attack. He glared at reporters and refused to answer questions on any subject other than how great he was. Vick was also ushered in and out of the press conference by a phalanx of earthy young men, all bedecked in the trappings of conspicuous consumption, as though the journalists who sought his comments were an angry mob he needed protection from. He seemed, for all his blessings and success, to have a massive and hard-to-understand chip on his shoulder. It's a chip that may have gotten him into big trouble. Despite all this fame and fortune, Vick has admitted to organizing dogfights, betting on them, and even brutally murdering those dogs he feels don't show enough killer instinct to be fighters. Vick sought a plea bargain after Peace, Phillips and Taylor pleaded guilty and pointed their fingers squarely at the star quarterback. Not coincidentally, the prosecution hinted that they would pursue racketeering charges against him, which could result in far stiffer penalties. It was a weak act, one made more understandable after reading the horrific details of the case, which paint Vick to be a heartless, even sadistic, man. It all seems very incongruous with his public persona. Though a Pro Bowl quarterback, Vick could have played any skill position in football and easily been among the best. His speed, athleticism, vision and elusiveness are transcendental. In more concrete terms, he is a very rich young man, after having signed an NFL-record $130 million (U.S.) contract in 2005, which included a $37 million signing bonus. But it's hardly the first time Vick has run afoul of public mores.In 2004, two men were arrested in Virginia with a pickup truck bed full of marijuana – the truck belonged to Vick, but he escaped prosecution by blaming it on the drivers. In 2005, he was sued by a woman who claimed she'd contracted genital herpes from him while he used the pseudonym "Ron Mexico." He settled out of court. About a year later, he treated booing hometown fans to a double middle-finger salute. And in January 2007, he was caught at an airport with a water bottle that had a secret compartment that officials said smelled strongly of marijuana and contained a great deal of marijuana residue. His behaviour and self-discipline were so bad, according to press reports, that the Falcons had to hire former NFL and CFL star Billy "White Shoes" Johnson to keep him and his entourage out of trouble and even to drive Vick to court appearances. Youthful exuberance aside, why would a person as singularly gifted and wealthy as Vick risk his reputation and enviable livelihood on an activity that the overwhelming majority of people find abhorrent? Well, there are a few theories. The one most commonly heard on the street and posted on the Internet (often by Canadians) usually begins with the phrase, "You can take the boy out of the ghetto..." But it just doesn't hold up. Although Vick grew up in public housing in Newport News, Va., (a city often referred to as "BadNewz" in hip-hop lyrics), he didn't have it all that bad. His parents stayed together and both worked very hard to ensure his success. Even if they hadn't, it wouldn't explain such NFL greats as Warrick Dunn, Patrick Willis, Deuce McAllister and Marshall Faulk and others who emerged from much more dire circumstances and are nothing less than exemplary citizens. Then there's the spoiled athlete theory. It's true that Vick's talent was recognized very early and that he has had a life in which he has been almost constantly praised and, probably, forgiven many minor transgressions. "To some degree, there is a sense of entitlement and a sense of things get overlooked and things get taken care of and the rules don't apply," says Jonathan F. Katz, a Manhattan psychologist who helps professional sports teams deal with big egos. "It's like a parent – if there's tacit approval of misbehaviour and there are no consequences, the message on some level is it's okay."While that might explain the Ron Mexico incident or the water bottle, it seems unlikely that too many sports fans, no matter how rabid, would forgive Vick's alleged bloodlust for pitting dogs against each other, or killing the less willing dogs by gunshot, strangulation or repeatedly slamming them to the ground. Cruelty to animals – along with bedwetting and fire starting – make up what's known among psychologists as the MacDonald Triad, an indicator of anti-social personality disorder (APD). People with APD (who used to be called "psychopaths") are defined as those unable to feel any empathy for those around them, including animals. Among other symptoms, people with APD may lie persistently, have a lack of remorse for hurting others, display aggressive or violent behaviour, a sense of extreme entitlement and, often, superficial charm. There's no consensus on what causes APD, there's not really a lot that can be done about it, and according to some studies, it affects up to 5 per cent of young men.In 1998, three intrepid American scientists – Rhonda Evans, DeAnne Gauthier and Craig Forsyth – went undercover and studied dogfighting in the United States. They found that the participants were generally poor, usually rural and overwhelmingly white. Not exactly Vick's crowd, no matter how much of the media have painted them as such. Of course, there were exceptions. But the one tie that bonded all the dogfighters in their study became their thesis: "As long as the status of manhood continues to be `precious' and defined as something that must be earned, males will continue to seek avenues by which to validate their status as men. Males who face limited opportunities for masculine expression within the boundaries proscribed by the dominant culture may seek avenues outside of these boundaries, even if they are illegal. Failure to achieve (or even failure to aspire to) the culturally constructed and defined goal of masculinity is often considered, by many males, far worse than any legal penalties they might incur in the process."Prominent British psychologist Elie Godsi agrees. She said: "It's about power and control, and it appeals to people who feel insecure and insignificant and powerless in their own lives so they take it out on creatures less powerful than them by training them to be aggressive; it satisfies a rather seedy bloodlust among people who often feel disenfranchised and alienated from society."While it may seem unfathomable to those of us who see a young man with movie star good looks reel off 90-yard runs or fling 70-yard passes, it would seem that part of Vick's problem is that he doesn't feel he's man enough. We may never know why, but you can be sure he does. But what he doesn't realize is that no amount of dogs' blood will ever change that.