When I was a kid and I got caught doing something bad, I got spanked or grounded depending on the severity of the crime. Sometimes both if it was bad enough.

But what I hated more than anything is what happened immediately after the punishment. Even if my mom had wore me out for what seemed like an hour, I had to sit there and explain why I did what I did and why I wouldn’t do it again. It was like adding salt to the wound. It was humiliating.

As a kid, you have to accept that as part of growing up. But as an adult, you would never expect to be in a situation where you had to prove your remorsefulness if you have already been punished. That is unless you are Michael Vick. Since he has been released from prison, the only question anyone has on their mind is if he is really sorry for what he has done.

There is no argument that what Vick did to get sentenced to 23 months in prison was wrong and he has said so multiple times. But I do not feel Vick should have to placate anyone by allowing them to judge how sorry he is. He paid his debt to society, did his time and lost all his money. That was more than enough. Having him go on what feels like an apology tour is way too much. Especially since other athletes in his position did not have to do the same.

When Packer tight end Mark Chmura went on trial for child enticement and third-degree sexual assault with his 17-year-old baby-sitter he didn’t have to do public service announcements on child abuse. When Brett Favre confessed to being addicted to the drug vicodin, he wasn’t asked to do anti-drug commercials. Where is the outcry to have Donte Stallworth talk to kids about drinking and driving? When Ben Roethlisberger was charged with sexual assault in a civil trial, the NFL swept it under the rug and went on with business as usual. And those crimes were just as bad if not worse than what Vick was convicted of.

If Vick wants to ease his own conscience, that’s fine. But for his new employers, football fans, animal right groups or the media to insist he must show contrition first is dumbfounding. Either you take him at his word, or not. He shouldn’t have to prove anything else.

When Philadelphia stepped up to the plate and signed Vick to a two-year, $6.8 million contract, they separated themselves from the rest of the teams in the NFL who were too scared to pull the trigger because of the possible public outcry.

“I believe in second chances and I have strong faith in God that he forgives our sins,” Eagles quarterback Donvan McNabb said. “Yes, it was a bad thing and a malicious act, but somewhere in your heart, you have to have forgiveness.”

Most league analysts figured Vick would wind up with a team like the Raiders, who are known to take chances on players with sullied names or the New England Patriots, who have an overblown reputation for transforming bad boys into strong character guys.

But it was the Eagles, an organization that would rather sacrifice talent rather than having a showman on the team, the same club that jettisoned Terrel Owens because of the controversy he created, that took on a whole new level of problems by bringing Vick into the fold.

I like the move. Not only for the extraordinary skills and talents Vick brings to the field, which are unparalleled, but also the variety of messages it sends out to his critics and those who claim to have forgiven him but plan to use his situation for their own purposes.

“The ultimate decision upon us was this,” the Eagles said in a statement. “If a person made a terrible mistake and then paid their debts to society, was deeply remorseful and turned their life around completely, and not only lives a life of virtue themselves but is investing time to make sure others don’t make the same mistakes, would you be willing to help this human being move forward? Would you give them a second chance?”