On December 10, 2007, Michael Vick walked into a federal courthouse in Richmond, Virginia, chewing gum and rocking crisp white Nike Air Force 1 Mids that happened to match the stripes on his prison uniform.

He was there to be sentenced for his role in a brutal dogfighting ring that had cost him his $100 million NFL contract, his record-breaking Nike deal and, most importantly, his freedom. He appeared to have at least some degree of defiance – if not disbelief – when, at least for practical reasons, he should have tried to show remorse and responsibility.

Soon, federal prosecutors would uncover not only Vick’s crimes in running the Bad Newz Kennels, but a list of senseless violations after He had pleaded guilty and knew all eyes were on him.

While awaiting sentencing, the government argued to Judge Henry E. Hudson that Vick did not fully admit to some of his crimes, used deceptive practices to cover up others, and even smoked marijuana just the night before a scheduled test , and that’s what he did, finish him off.

Even his own friends and family members who were present and felt that detention was unnecessary could only shake their heads. Disappointment was in the air. This was self-inflicted stuff. All of this potential should be celebrated after Leavenworth.

Vick had arrived that day and was facing a prison sentence of 12 to 18 months. Due to his lack of criminal record, it was speculated that he would only receive the minimum. If so, he could be out in just over 10 months and back in the NFL soon after. Instead, his actions and attitude resulted in the sentence being increased to 18 to 24 months.

In the end, Vick got 23, more than any of his co-defendants, many of whom had criminal records. The officers soon led him out in handcuffs and made his way to the cage. His family just cried. That, they swore, wasn’t him, it wasn’t Mike.

“I am prepared to say that if Michael Vick is given another opportunity in society or in the NFL,” his attorney Billy Martin said that day, “he will take full advantage of it.”

Seventeen Decembers later, in the same Virginia where he grew up, where he electrified ballfields from Newport News to Blacksburg, and where he was convicted, Michael Vick fulfilled his lawyer’s promise with a new title.

Trainer.

Norfolk State has reportedly tapped Vick, now 44, to lead its football program, just a half-hour drive from his hometown.

It’s the latest chapter in a powerful redemption story in which Vick came to terms with his actions, paid his debt to society, made a triumphant return to the NFL and emerged as an influential spokesman for animal rights. He went from being a vilified villain to being a role model and leader.

And it’s not finished yet.

The Vick who stood in that courtroom and who seemed to believe he was as untouchable off the field as the quarterback who weaved through the Green Bay Packers on a cold playoff night in Lambeau is long gone. The new man is here to prove himself once again.

Will Michael Vick win many games as a college football coach? Nobody knows.

What seems certain is that his players will benefit from the lessons he can impart from a roller coaster ride of American football life. The good. The bad. The ugly. From rise to scandal to the slow, hard-fought return.

There is no denying the cruelty Vick showed toward his dogs. There is also no mistaking the shock of seeing someone at the height of a brilliant career embark on such a sad and twisted task.

What Vick has proven, however, is that no one, at least in all but the most reprehensible cases, should be completely defined by their worst moment. They may actually have the most to give.

His seven-year return to the NFL after his incarceration – including five as a starter for the Philadelphia Eagles – was encouraging enough.

However, athletes tend to take these shots. If you can play, someone will always excuse you.

What Vick did with that opportunity was more. It wasn’t just his return to form – or anything close to his days in Atlanta.

It was his professionalism, work ethic and humility that won over locker rooms and coaches alike – including Andy Reid and Mike Tomlin. Teammates not only saw someone who could score touchdowns, but also someone who could be trusted.

He had been on the edge. He had made it back.

This is the Vick who turned to charity after his career ended in 2015; a constant, especially at his old Newport News Boys and Girls Club. He worked as a broadcaster for Fox Sports but longed to do more because he believed he could offer more.

Now a coach, he follows Deion Sanders (Jackson State) and Eddie George (Tennessee State) as an NFL great leading an HBCU.

All these years after hitting rock bottom in one of American sports’ most spectacular crashes, Michael Vick continued one of his greatest comebacks, a life of reconciliation for all to see.

Coach Vick, at Norfolk State, right where he needs to be.