Michael Vick mentioned Friday in an interview with 92.9 The Game that he was in discussions to sign a one-day contract with the Falcons, so as to retire from the NFL as a member of the franchise that drafted and nurtured him. Him being Michael Vick and this being Atlanta, the matter became a Talking Point. Prematurely, it turns out.

Before the holiday weekend was done, Vick offered a clarification: Yes, he'd like to retire as a Falcon, but no, the Falcons haven't yet engaged in such a dialogue. "In due time," Vick told ESPN's Vaughn McClure, "it's something that can potentially happen."

In due time. Potentially. Nothing imminent, then. But today we ask: Should it happen?

For the record, I’ve come to believe that, when it comes to ceremonial stuff, teams can do as they please. In September 1987, the Braves re-acquired Phil Niekro — who has a road named after him in Flowery Branch, where Vick once trained — for the purpose of making his final big-league start as a Brave. He’d spent four years in the American League, Ted Turner devoting much of that time to gnashing his teeth for letting the beloved Knucksie leave as a free agent. Indeed, the Braves unveiled a statue of Niekro at Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium in August 1984, when he was a salaried member of the New York Yankees.

This correspondent harrumphed that Niekro’s start was a gimmick that served no competitive purpose. I was, I’ll concede, a bit more strident in my youth. And this shouldn’t be read as an apology: Bringing back a 48-year-old pitcher who was about to retire was in fact a gimmick that served no competitive purpose. The Braves, who were about to finish fifth in the National League West, ignored my counsel and let Knucksie knuckle one last time.

His start came in the season’s final home game. As gimmicks go, it wasn’t a smash. The old ballpark was half-full. Niekro lasted five batters into the fourth inning, yielding six hits, six walks and five earned runs. (There was a reason he was retiring.) The Braves lost 16-5. But — this I also concede — it did no harm, and maybe it gave the team and its fans and especially a distinguished servant of long standing an hour or so of the warm and fuzzies.

Since then, my feeling about such matters has, ahem, evolved. If a team wants to do something nice for a player, I say it should do it. I admit that I blinked when the Hawks retired Dikembe Mutombo’s number in 2015. The man was a good player on some good Hawks teams, and he’d just been inducted into the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame. Still, he was a Hawk for 343 games — basically 3 1/2 seasons. (Kevin Willis was a Hawk more than twice that long.) I offered no protest because my objection wasn’t really an objection. It was a quibble.

The Vick thing is different. Niekro left to sign with the Yankees. Mutombo was traded to Philadelphia. The Falcons’ famous No. 7 went to prison, leaving behind a franchise that had banked everything on him. And not just money — Bobby Petrino had been hired as coach for the express purpose of getting the best from Vick. On the day the 2007 Falcons held their first practice of training camp, their quarterback was in federal court in Richmond, Va. On the day he was sentenced to 23 months, the Falcons lost to the Saints to fall to 3-10. The next night, Petrino was in the Ozarks calling the Hogs.

For as much good as Vick did for the Falcons — and he did a lot, winning games and filling the Dome — his exit nearly undid it all. He pleaded guilty to running a dogfighting ring in Virginia, which wasn’t a one-time misstep. According to the indictment, the ring had been ongoing since his rookie season. In sum, he’d led a double life. When asked by Arthur Blank if the allegations were true, he lied and said no.

Also for the record: Even knowing what I know, I still like Michael Vick. I believe his many apologies have been sincere. I was glad when he resurrected his career in Philadelphia. I’m happy he now seems to be the person he once pretended to be. I wish him no ill will. But a few years ago, when the possibility of him returning as a backup was being floated, I asked a Falcons executive: “Why give a guy a second chance to destroy your franchise?”

Said the exec: “Exactly.”

No great harm would come from having Vick sign a one-day deal and then walk away. If Blank decides it’s fine by him — he probably will; Vick was introduced on the field at a ceremony during the Dome’s final regular-season game — I’ll raise no fuss. (That’s a promise.)

Were I the Falcons, I’m not sure it’d be fine by me. I believe in forgiveness, which isn’t the same as forgetting. If you were around this team in 2007, you’ll never forget it. Michael Vick wasn’t around. He was in jail.