'We'll always be Penn State'

I usually write in this space about my perspective of this world from the two wheels of my bicycle. Today, with what is going on at Penn State, I am compelled to write about a seminal moment in my life that took place on four wheels.

It was November 28, 1981. Thanksgiving was two days prior and my father and I were returning from a trip to the big city, having taken in the frosty scenery of a town getting ready for the Christmas season. 

We were in his Diesel Volkswagen Rabbit chugging along some highway or another in New Jersey when he tuned the a.m. radio in to the broadcast of the traditional Penn State-Pitt football game. The game didn't mean that much to me. I had just turned 16 and wasn't a college football fan...yet. However, things my father told me the next hour would shape a favorite part of my life forever.

By the time we tuned in, Penn State was down 14-0. My father demonstrated some minor disgust. I asked out loud what was wrong. He said he was hoping Penn State would win. As a lifelong Garden Stater, I didn't think my dad had any allegiance to Penn State. In fact, I knew him to be fiercely loyal to his alma mater, Villanova. I asked him why he wanted Penn State. He told me it was because of Joe Paterno, Penn State's coach. I was nonplussed. It seemed odd to me to support a team because of their coach. I was only 16. And I had no idea who this coach was.

Then he began to tell me about Joe Paterno.

And then the team began to make a comeback.

You see, this was not just a football game. Pitt was 10-0 and ranked No. 1 in the nation. They had future NFL Hall-of-Famer Dan Marino as quarterback. Penn State was 9-1 with a pretty good squad of personnel, as well. It was a traditional season-ending rivalry and this year it was being played in icy Pittsburgh.

As my dad told me about how Penn State's players have always had terrific graduation rates and get good grades, they scored their first touchdown. "I bet that player just handed the ball to the ref," my dad said.

"Huh?" I uttered.

"Penn State players don't spike the ball, or any of that other nonsense," he said, "They just hand it respectfully to the ref. That's because of their coach."

From that day on, although I never played organized football, I often dreamed of scoring a big touchdown, handing the ball to the ref and looking subtly to wherever my dad was.

Then he told me about how the players always dressed in a coat and tie in public. He really liked that, too. He also went on about how Penn State players go on to be successful after football, if they were lucky enough to play in the NFL, but how so many of them who didn't play pro conducted their lives after football with success and class and that was because their coach instilled in them great values. He told me of their great exploits in the NFL, but also of men like Rosie Grier, Mike Reid, and others who did tremendous things outside of football, and he credited Joe Paterno for so much of that success.

The game was tied, 14-14 at halftime.

The second half was all Penn State and my dad continued to impress me with stories of a man who was already a legend for shaping young men and winning big football games. Penn State won 48-14.

You can bet that when I got out of that car I wanted to run straight to University Park and sign up for classes. Well, I had a couple years of high school to go yet, but that's exactly what I did when the time came. And I attended every home football game and cheered like mad as the team went undefeated for my first two regular seasons on campus and beat University of Miami for the National Championship of the 1986 season.

That game was a Saints versus Sinners matchup as couched by the media. The airwaves were full of hyperbole and grandeur describing Joe Paterno's squeaky clean program and how they would fair against a renegade team of combat-fatigue-clad ne'er-do-wells with a win-at-all cost coach.

Earlier that month Sports Illustrated named Paterno "Sportsman of the Year" and that issue was filled with articles that read like the transcript of that fateful car ride with my dad. I swelled with pride that month. I had chosen well in my allegiance to Penn State and my pride was just beginning.

Joe Paterno has coached Penn State every football season that I've been alive. Now it looks like our streak together is coming to an end. People will make their own judgements as to his role in this recent disgrace. At this moment, as I struggle with my own feelings on this matter, students have gathered outside Joe's house, on Old Main Lawn and at his statue at the stadium and are chanting their support. Conversely, the Board of Trustees has gathered in an unusual late-night meeting to discuss Paterno's likely dismal fate.

Are the student's misguided in their support? That's a very personal decision that individuals can choose to make. But in a video released on twitter Tuesday night, Joe said, "Just remember, we'll always be Penn State."

Any Penn Stater knows what that means. Some non-Penn Staters will think we're smug. All we know is that we've tried to do things the right way and have taken pride in that. Live life with honor. Be respectful. Do things with class. Every one of us has failed in those efforts at one time or another, and many will say that no one failed more than those responsible for the atrocities that have come to light recently at Penn State. And they're right.

And if Joe has those failures to his credit, shame on him, but it doesn't erase the fact that he's steered so many people in the right direction.

How many Dads and sons have had that conversation while travelling on some highway in New Jersey? I know I have had it with my sons...probably ad nauseum, if you ask them. But they are growing up to be great kids with good values and I can't help but think that some of that is due to that car ride 30 years ago and two men who had a tremendous effect on the man I've become.