The beginning of my love for football goes back to when I was seven years old. I was spending time with my grandmother, Caletha Vick. I never knew anything about the game until one Sunday afternoon when she turned on the television because the Redskins were playing. They were my Uncle Casey's favorite team-and my grandmother's favorite too. After watching the game with them, I was hooked.

I miss dogs, man. I always had a family pet, always had a dog growing up. It was almost equivalent to the prison sentence, having something taken away from me for three years. I want a dog just for the sake of my kids, but also me. I miss my companions.

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.

Once I decided football was the way for me, there was no looking back. Nothing was going to distract me.

I'm probably better than I ever was in my career, as far as the mental aspect of the game.

Forever. My brother is not a bad person. The best thing for Marc now is leaving college, getting away from a bunch of people he was around every day. Now he'll have a chance to play in the NFL and have somebody who can be there with him and can guide him in the right direction.

I know I'm good. I know I got game.