Michael Vick has nobody but himself to blame.

He also has nobody to thank.

While it's appropriate to blast a superstar athlete with a $100 million contract for being so stupid, I think too many people around him have been allowed to quietly back away from this.

Arthur Blank, where were you?

Oh, that's right. You were on the sidelines, pushing Mike around in a wheelchair when he was hurt, looking more like his nurse / servant, than his boss.

You were the guy who gave him that insanely huge contract, helping push his perception of "invincibility toward responsibility" into the Superman range.

You claim you had "no idea" Vick was behind the financing of this dog fighting endeavor on Moonlight Road. Really? Sounds as plausible as Vick's mock shock at finding marijuana residue inside his airport water bottle.

Does Blank have anybody in his security department that knows how to do a routine background check? You may be able to get away with just knowing the punter's last name and his wife. But your star quarterback needs a little bit more scrutiny. I would want to know every property he owns, every vehicle he drives, every cousin who lives off of him and every off-field hot spot he likes to visit.

Talk about a "Blank Check." Here, take this fortune. I trust you.

Time after time, Michael Vick showed contempt for being held accountable. And Blank and his staff covered for the guy.

Why should they be shocked that he thought it would happen again? Dirty weed bottles? Dead pit bulls? It's all the same. Heads up, Arthur! Watch my back!

Former coach Jim Mora Jr. seemed really fond of the guy. I even saw him kissing Mike on the head before games. Did he like him enough, however, to say no? Did he like him enough to give him a dressing down about his play, his practice habits or the whispers about his off-field activities?

And how about the players? I saw lots of long faces Monday night on the Falcons sideline. DeAngelo Hall wrote "MV7" on his eye black. Roddy White lifted up an undershirt in the end zone that said: "Free Mike Vick."

Oh yeah. Lots of boo-hooing now from these guys; these so-called teammates; so-called "friends."

Maybe Blank's admonishment, or Mora Jr.'s pressure, would have fallen on deaf ears. What about Vick's peers? Could they have told him to knock it off and made him realize how huge his future was in the NFL and how fabulously wealthy and blessed his life was and would continue to be?

Did a single one of them pull Mike aside and say: "Hey, dummy. Just because you don't live in a house you bought for a cousin doesn't mean you won't get in trouble once somebody comes knocking on the door to investigate a crime."

Oh, that's right. Not a single player since this story broke has had the balls to come out and say: "You know, I feel sick about this. Because I knew it was going on and I just swept it under the rug, like everybody else. I should have spoken up. I should have reached out. I should have done something, anything."

Players in locker rooms know everything. Except when it's convenient to play the role of Sergeant Schultz from "Hogan's Heroes" and scream: "I ... know... NOTHING!"

Early on in this fast moving story, back when it was fashionable to say, "Wait until all the facts come out," Fox Sports Radio's football insider Chris Landry went on the air and said former Falcons defensive back Ray Buchanan had told him directly that Vick was "big" into dog fighting.

It didn't take more than a single news cycle for Buchanan to go public denying he had ever said such a thing. Too bad he didn't act as fast when he was aware Vick was committing federal felonies in a despicable backwoods blood sport.

Everybody now says how much they "love and support" Mike Vick. Well sure, it's easy to do now.

Where were they then?