Michael Vick: "I Blame Me"

Before he became a symbol of animal cruelty, Michael Vick was one of the most electrifying players in American football. As quarterback of the Atlanta Falcons, he was the highest paid player in the league, and he pulled in tens of millions of dollars in endorsements.

But it all came to an abrupt end two years ago when police raided a farm Vick owned in Virginia and uncovered an illegal dog fighting operation. He eventually pled guilty to bankrolling the enterprise and participating in every aspect of it, including killing dogs that refused to fight. He was sentenced to two years in prison, and eventually declared bankruptcy.

Last month he was released and conditionally reinstated into the NFL.

Friday, at a press conference in Philadelphia, it was announced he'd be playing for the Philadelphia Eagles, after signing a two-year contract, with the possibility of earning nearly $7 million.

In his first interview since going to prison, Michael Vick explains what he did, why he did it, and how he says he has changed.

Asked what he cried about, Vick said, "What I did, you know, being away from my family, letting so many people down. I let myself down, not being out on the football field, being in a prison bed, in a prison bunk, writing letters home, you know. That wasn't my life. That wasn't the way that things was supposed to be. And all because the so-called culture that I thought was right, that I thought it was cool. and I thought it was fun, and it was exciting at the time. It all led to me laying in a prison bunk by myself with no one to talk to but myself."

"Who do you blame for all of this?" Brown asked.

"I blame me," Vick replied.

Vick was a human highlight reel, with a powerful arm, blazing speed, and an uncanny ability to elude tacklers. He's the only quarterback in NFL history to rush over 1,000 yards in a season, though he was injured a lot, and never lived up to the high expectations of football fans in Atlanta.

Very few people knew what was happening in his life off the field. When police raided a farm he owned in rural Virginia in 2007, they uncovered an interstate dogfighting operation called "Bad Newz Kennels."

They removed 66 dogs, and exhumed the bodies of eight more. They also found dogfighting paraphernalia and a pit where fights were held.

The dogs that were saved - raised and trained to be vicious fighters - are now being rehabilitated in hopes of being adopted, all at the expense of Vick, who was ordered by a judge to pay nearly $1 million for the effort.

"And the operation, Michael, that you pleaded guilty to bankrolling, to being a part of, engaged in barbarous treatment of the animals - beating them, shooting them, electrocuting them, drowning them. Horrific things, Michael," Brown remarked.

"It's wrong, man," Vick said. "I don't know how many times I gotta tell, I gotta say it. I mean it was wrong. I feel tremendous hurt behind what happened. And, you know, I should've took the initiative to stop it all. And I didn't. And I feel so bad about that now. And I know that I didn't I didn't step up. I wasn't a leader."

"In any way, for those who may say it showed a lack of moral character because you didn't stop it, you agree or disagree?" Brown asked.

"I agree," Vick said.

For six years Vick ran Bad Newz Kennels with his childhood friends, breeding, buying, selling and fighting pit bulls.

"Was there any adrenaline rush? Was it the sense of competition? What was it that gripped you about what you engaged in with the dogfighting?" Brown asked.

"Regardless of what it was, don't even matter," Vick replied.

"Do you know what it was?" Brown asked.

"I know why. And regardless of what it was - and why I was driven, you know, by what was going on, whether it was because of the competition or whatever it may have been, it was wrong," Vick said.

"Were any of those reasons, though? The competition? The adrenaline?" Brown asked.

"Yeah," Vick acknowledged.

Asked if he understands why people are outraged, Vick said, "I understand why. And I'm going to say it again. Sickens me to my stomach. And it was same thing that I'm feeling right now."

He told Brown that feeling right now is "pure disgust."

"When did you arrive at that feeling of disgust, Michael? When did the light go on?" Brown asked.

"When I was in prison. I was disgusted, you know, because of what I let happen to those animals," Vick said. "I could've put a stop to it. I could've walked away from it. I could've shut the whole operation down."

"But you didn't. Why not?" Brown asked.

"But I didn't," Vick acknowledged.

Asked what kept him going, Vick told Brown, "Not being able to say, or tell certain people around me that, 'Look, we can't do this anymore. I'm concerned about my career. I'm concerned about my family.'"

"So for the cynics who will say, 'You know what? I don't know. Michael Vick might be more concerned about the fact that his career was hurt than dogs were hurt,'" Brown asked.

"I mean, football don't even matter," Vick said. "I deserve to lose that because of what I was doing. I deserve to lose the $130 million and, you know, on the flip side, you know, killing dogs or doing the wrong things, why would, you know, he don't deserve it."

Brown and 60 Minutes met Michael Vick in Virginia - he wasn't allowed to cross state lines without permission from his probation officer. He was accompanied by two men, former NFL coach Tony Dungy, who has been asked by NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell to mentor Vick, and someone you might never expect: Wayne Pacelle, president of the Humane Society of the United States.

"Why would you put your reputation on the line in working with Michael Vick?" Brown asked Dungy.

"I've visited a lot of prisons. It's something that I do. And I know that there are a lot of young men, especially African-American young men, who need a chance. Who made a mistake. Who did something wrong. Who had a problem but are looking to bounce back. That's what I've always been concerned about. Not just for Michael Vick. But for hundreds of guys that I've talked to."

Pacelle's relationship with Vick is even more unlikely. His organization provided evidence that helped put Vick in prison. While Pacelle says he remains skeptical, he nevertheless enlisted Vick as an anti-dogfighting ambassador.

"If we just punish Mike indefinitely and don't pivot to this problem in the communities, where kids are victimizing these dogs and then going down a dead-end street themselves, because there are no heroic dogfighters, we will not be doing our job. And I felt we needed to get involved and we needed to do some creative things to reach these kids. So that's why we have our community based programs. And I am really hopeful that Mike sticks with this and reaches these kids because he can turn some of them around. I really do believe that," Pacelle explained.

Their first effort was in Atlanta last weekend, where Vick talked to children in neighborhoods like the one he grew up in. "I encourage you to love your animals. Whatever animals you have, whether it's a dog, a cat, a reptile, if it's a horse. I so encourage you to love that animal dearly and with all your heart," he said at the event.

It's a message Vick says he never heard when he was a kid in Newport News, Va., where he was first exposed to dogfighting when he was eight years old.

"I was introduced very young, so I didn't think it was wrong because I'd seen older guys condoning it and then, you know, doing it," Vick said.

"You shared with me the story about, even the police riding through the neighborhood and seeing what was happening. Explain that situation," Brown asked.

"When they got out the car and seen that, you know, it was two dogs fighting, they got back in the car and they left. So that right there kind of made me feel like, 'Okay, you know, this ain't - it is not as bad as it may seem.' We didn't think it was bad at the time. And, you know, that kind of put a stamp on it," Vick said.

"We knew it was a huge issue before Michael Vick was prosecuted, but the public didn't know. We estimate there are 40,000 professional dogfighters in the country and perhaps 100,000 street fighters. We're talking about something that's occurring in every part of the country, rural and urban, white, black, Latino. It's an industry," Pacelle said.

Asked what the attraction is, Pacelle told Brown, "People enjoy watching these animals compete and fight. They get excited by the bloodletting. They gamble on the outcomes. The fights may last ten minutes, they may last three hours. Dogs die from shock, they die from blood loss. They suffer, if they survive the process, to maybe fight again. All for what?"

When the allegations of dogfighting first arose, Vick made another monumental mistake. He lied about it to everybody: law enforcement, his family, his coaches, and to NFL Commissioner Goodell.

"I was scared. I knew my career was in jeopardy. I knew I had endorsement with Nike and I knew it was gonna be a big letdown. I felt the guilt and I knew I was guilty, and I knew what I had done. And, not knowing at the time that, you know, actually telling the truth may have been better than not being honest. And it backfired on me tremendously," Vick said.

He told us one of his biggest mistakes was lying to Atlanta Falcons owner Arthur Blank, who bet the future of the franchise on the young quarterback, awarding him the largest contract in the history of the NFL at the time, $130 million, and stood by him as the charges piled up and Vick fell from grace.

"Fair to say that you broke his heart?" Brown asked.

"Definitely," Vick acknowledged.

"How did that make you feel, given that he was still sticking with you when everybody else turned their backs on you?" Brown asked.

"I can't describe the feeling. You know, the hurt deep inside, hurt that I never felt before, knowing that I disappointed him, knowing that he'd given me every opportunity to come to him and reach out whenever I needed him. And he cared about me and I took it all for granted," Vick said.

He also took his own talent for granted, known for traveling with a large entourage of friends from Virginia, going on wild spending sprees, and not focusing on football.

Vick said he knows what his reputation was when he was playing. "I was lazy. You know, I was the last guy in the building, first guy out. I know that. You know, I hear everything that people say. And that hurt me when I heard that, but I know it was true."

"I think everyone looked at it that way. Tremendous athlete. Tremendous talent. Very, very gifted guy, who relies on his natural ability," Vick's NFL mentor Tony Dungy said. "He was exciting and probably didn't scratch the surface of his potential. And he and I talked about that for along time in Leavenworth. He talked about not working out, not training, not studying. You know, kind of taking things for granted. Gifts that the Lord had given him. Just really living on that and not working at it."

"I just reached the point in my career where I just totally lost touch with my Lord and Savior. And I thought I could do it on my own. And I couldn't. So I had to resurrect that back into my life," Vick said.

"Now you know most people who get in trouble, all of a sudden they find God. And you say?" Brown asked.

"It's the only way I made it through prison. It's the only way I could live life is having faith and believing in the higher power, believing in God," Vick said.

Vick has also put his faith in the hands of a powerful group of attorneys, agents and media advisors, who are trying to rehabilitate his image and resuscitate his career, and help him through interviews like ours.

"Michael, is this you talking? Or the big team of attorneys, image-shapers and the like," Brown asked.

"This is Mike Vick. People will see my work out there, my work in the communities and my work with the Humane Society and how I really do care now, how I care about animals," Vick said.

And a lot of people will be watching. The NFL commissioner's decision to permanently reinstate him is pending, and the Humane Society has high expectations.

"Michael is somebody who needs to continue to demonstrate a commitment to this issue. I told him we're not interested if this was gonna be a flash in the pan involvement. And if Mike disappoints us, the public's going to see that. So it's not gonna reflect badly on me or the Humane Society. It's gonna reflect badly on him," Society President Wayne Pacelle pointed out.

"Will you be committed to all that you said, that folks are hearing you say today?" Brown asked Vick.

"Still. Still. And I'm gonna let my actions continue to speak louder than my words. And I'm gonna still be involved in the community, because I still - regardless of football - would have a voice that can have an impact on kids, because I've been a living example of what not to do," he said.

Produced by Michael Radutzky, Graham Messick and Michael Karzis