In 1986, the NCAA culminated its investigation of the Southern Methodist University football program by handing down the “death penalty,” canceling the program’s entire 1987 season, which in turn led to the school’s termination of the 1988 season and a twenty-plus year rebuilding process that SMU is still enduring today.
That is the fate of Pennsylvania (“Penn”) State University following the firing of legendary head coach Joe Paterno as a part of the backlash stemming from a sex abuse scandal that involved former defensive coordinator and one-time heir apparent to Paterno, Jerry Sandusky.
While SMU’s death penalty was verbally expressed and officially handed over in a paper form, Penn State’s death penalty will come indirectly from the controversial scandal, and not from NCAA officials. More importantly, the pain that this event will inflict onto the community of State College, Pa., better known as Happy Valley, will never fade.
Wednesday night’s debauchery in State College took turbulent turn for the worst, escalating the situation into a riot that required police reinforcements onto the scene. Although a disgusting and pitiful display of ignorant and aggravated college students, one can hope that this is the most repulsive the situation will get.
However, that remains ambiguous as heavily argued debates continue to be launched in defense of Paterno or in agreement with the Penn State board of trustees that severed ties with the 46-year head coach and the school’s president, Graham Spanier late Wednesday.
For those in the pro Paterno camp, all that matters is that Paterno did not do enough when it mattered most. Whether that was report to police officials the 2002 rape and sodomy allegations against Sandusky brought to him by then-graduate assistant Mike McQueary, or simply ban Sandusky from the team’s facilities after the reported incident took place in the team’s showers. It doesn’t matter now what could have been done, because it’s too late.
That was nearly ten years ago. The victims’ lives have been eternally ruined and stained.
Despite his 409 career victories and 24 bowl victories, both of which are NCAA records for a Division I coach, Paterno made the wrong coaching decision when the biggest game—his legacy and the integrity of the institution—was on the line.
In a 2002 interview with ESPN, Paterno said to a reporter after being asked about retirement, “it comes to a point, when you ask yourself ‘what are you going to leave’?”
Great question, Joe. Before this season, the answer to that question was simple—Joe Paterno was going to leave Penn State as the greatest coach in college football history. No questions asked. No counter arguments heard.
Now? The numbers are still on Paterno’s side; however, he leaves Penn State in such upheaval that it’s hard to deem this marred former icon a legend of the game anymore.
Since arriving on the Nittany Lions’ sidelines in 1949, Paterno donated more than $4 million to the university, funding scholarships, faculty positions and the construction of a library that is named after him.
Although Paterno was never accused of breaking NCAA rules in the 46 years he was head coach, and he still isn’t guilty of breaking any, the crimes committed at Penn State are heinous enough that it’s fair to say Penn State’s scandal is worse than the recent follies at University of Southern California (USC), Ohio State University and the University of Miami (FL) combined.
While those who side in favor of Paterno will say he was not guilty of the committed crimes, the fact remains they happened under his watch. Moreover, Paterno is practically a demi-god in and around State College. He had more than extensive amount of power not only over that football team, but also around the campus and the community.
Whatever action he would have taken against Sandusky then would have been supported and heralded.
Again, he elected to do nothing. And that’s what has left people across the globe so flabbergasted and appalled.
Grantland columnist Michael Weinreb, who grew up in State College, put the situation into perspective in his Tuesday column, before Paterno’s firing.
“Our leaders failed to cover, and while they deserve the benefit of due process, they deserve to be held accountable for whatever mistakes they made. If it means that this is how Joe Paterno goes out, then so be it; if it means that 30 years of my own memories of Penn State football are forever tarnished, then I will accept it in the name of finding some measure of justice,” Weinreb said. “It took Maryland [after the death of star basketball player Len Bias] the better part of two decades to regain its soul, and it will take us many years, as well, and in some way it will never be the same.”
It’s not so much a legacy that is being tarnished; it’s a way of life. It’s faith in a team, in a college and in a town. And when that faith is destroyed, the only feeling that’s compatible is death.
It’s tough to mourn, but this is Penn State’s funeral and we are all witnesses.
