Appreciating the Players Who Helped Save Penn State Football

What happened at Penn State was horrific. So unspeakably evil that it’s difficult to put into words. Retribution is coming, and the souls responsible will pay dearly, as they should.

But what can be lost in our search for vengeance are those who endured the recovery: the extraordinary people who played an extraordinary role despite seeking no credibility for doing so. Oftentimes, these efforts can be thankless, absorbed by the bigger picture.

Thanks to the NCAA’s ruling earlier this week, that will not be the case for the 49 young men who decided not to leave Penn State for reasons that are only important to them. Our search for the appropriate reaction begins there, with the people who didn’t flinch despite playing no part in the destruction.

“They have a chance to chase their dreams now,” Penn State head coach James Franklin said. “I know the black cloud’s not over their heads anymore.”

Let us not assess whether postseason blockades and scholarship losses were the appropriate punishment currency for heinous crimes and evil people in the first place.

Let’s remove ourselves from trying to comprehend why the NCAA acts the way it does and if this was the suitable time to remove the hammer entirely. Let’s instead talk about the lone constant: the players who waited for one final ceiling-less season together before they leave.

On a topic where middle ground is hard to come by, there is a sacred place of appreciation that can be lost in the discussion.

A Handshake and a Fan Gained

Gene J. Puskar/Associated Press

It was July. Mike Hull, accustomed to chaos, sat still at an empty table as the room hectically shifted around him. Cameras, microphones and notepads scrambled in undefined directions, and a clamoring of media members scattered throughout the Chicago Hilton ballroom ready to grab as many quotables as the two-hour session would allow.

It was the start of Day 2 of Big Ten Media Days, and Penn State’s senior linebacker awaited the approach of his first tape recorder. His new coach, James Franklin, sat 15 feet away, although his voice carried much farther than that and was already active. Although I had planned to speak with Franklin early, apparently the rest of the room had the same idea. I made a beeline for Hull instead.

With my pick of seat, I moved toward the chair closest to Hull, and as I did, he quickly stood up before my descent downward had begun. I paused, unsure if maybe a last-minute bathroom break was in the cards. As I studied the 232-pounder’s next move, he reached out his hand.

“Thank you very much for taking the time to speak with me,” Hull said.

He engulfed my non-football-player palm with ridiculous ease, and we both sat. As I looked down at the long list of sanction-related questions I planned to ask—a walkthrough of the unthinkable timeline the player had experienced over the past four years—I thought about the unexpected (and much appreciated) gesture.

We spent the next eight minutes talking about everything he had been through: three head coaches, various coaching philosophies, the sanctions, the heartbreak and how his teammates had come together. He was honest, concise and open, and the overall theme was pretty clear.

“I think our program is going in the right direction,” Hull said.

He spoke of the sanctions as if they were nothing more than a bad scar, something he’s dealt with all his life for no good reason. He wasn’t bitter or angry—and perhaps those stages had long since passed in private—but rather, at peace with his decision to stay at the school.

“We decided we were going to play for each other for the next three years,” he added.

Gene J. Puskar/Associated Press

With my list of questions answered and the empty table starting to fill around me, I thanked Hull for his time. He again went out of his way to thank me for speaking with him, and off I went.

But that moment stayed with me. Not necessarily because his responses fit the piece I was working on perfectly, but because Hull, through all the tears, turmoil and changes, had made it through to the other side long before the program was granted relief.

This was not manufactured jargon; it was a mindset developed by someone who was recruited by a dead, shamed coach, loyal to a successful (and impactful) caretaker and loyal once more, with feeling, to the man whose voice ricocheted off the Hilton ceiling directly behind him.

Despite the media’s ridiculous, unwritten rule to eliminate all rooting interests, I left that day as a fan of Mike Hull, the player, linebacker and Penn State mainstay. It was impossible not to be impressed, even if I had no real idea of what the past few years were like.

This week, shortly after the NCAA announcement became official, Hull spoke about just what this decision meant for one of the fixtures of the program.

“The whole thing has been kind of a roller-coaster ride, a lot of ups and downs,” Hull told Zack Neiner of The Daily Collegian following the NCAA’s announcement. “Whenever it first initially happened, it was kind of tough. But yesterday kind of brought the whole thing back around full circle."

A New Day Begins, the Same Path Continues

In some ways, everything has changed.

The shackles have been removed, which means whatever could have happened can happen. The players who stuck around—such as Mike Hull, running back Bill Belton and 49 juniors and seniors—will be able to experience whatever lies ahead without any fine print attached.

“You work hard. You work so hard 365 days a year, in the classroom, off the field and in the community,” Franklin said. “We ask a lot of these guys, and it’s nice to know that they’re not being limited or held back from any opportunities.”

Players, such as cornerback Jordan Lucas, who was the first recruit to commit to Bill O’Brien in 2012 during chaotic times, expressed their gratitude and excitement about what lies ahead on Instagram.

In some ways, nothing has changed.

Although the perception of postseason access and scholarships is significant, the relationships between player and coach and player and player—even the relationships that are still forming—far outweigh postseason importance.

“We’re still playing for the same thing that we were playing for before,” Franklin said. “That’s our brothers, our teammates, our players, our coaches, our alumni, our fans, our former players; and that’s who we were always playing for.”

This week, in front of the team and staff, Franklin gave the 49 players who could’ve left in 2012 without penalty a standing ovation. It was a small but significant break from game-planning for Rutgers.

"

Today is a memorable day for these young men! The men who stayed together for each other! Today Penn State is back! pic.twitter.com/GoZXRLwL1X

— Josh Gattis (@Coach_Gattis) September 8, 2014"

"[We] told them how much they mean to them, how much we are all in debt to them, how much respect the university, the alumni, the community has for them,” Franklin told Neiner. “And that we’re going to play for them because they were here for this program and university when we needed them the most.”

It doesn’t matter where you stand, whether you’re overcome with anger over the NCAA’s leniency or overcome with joy that sanity prevailed. The kids who were loyal to the program and, more importantly, to each other will be rewarded before they depart.

“You only get so few opportunities to be together, and this family will never be together after this year,” Franklin said. “Now we have a chance to extend our time together as a family, and that’s what it’s all about.”

Collateral damage no more, Mike Hull, Bill Belton, Jordan Lucas and 46 others will be allowed to play in a bowl game this season if Penn State meets the necessary requirements. Whether they seize this opportunity with the requisite victories pales in comparison to the journey taken and the impact generated. They have made it—past the heartbreak and handshakes—to the other side.

All quotes obtained firsthand unless otherwise noted.