Joe Paterno, Dismissals and Life Not Working out the Way We Expect It

I can't say I was surprised when, in the final hour working a late shift, I looked at the TV to see the Miami (OH) vs. Temple game interrupted by coverage from the announcement by Penn State's Board of Trustees that coach Joe Paterno had been fired in the wake of the biggest scandal to hit college athletics since people were literally dying on the field around the turn of the century.

Even accidental death, while rampant at the time, is hard to compare to a decade-and-a-half of child molestation charges by a pedophile who, allegedly, simultaneously took advantage of a charity he set up for at-risk youth and a major college football program that he helped build to an elite level, all to gain the trust of, then sexually abuse young boys.  

Scandal almost doesn't feel adequate as a descriptive term.  The sheer number of things we have deemed "scandals" this year precludes us from using the term without wincing. Nothing else even comes close to this.  How could it?  English has failed us.  Our societal nomenclature wasn't built for something of this magnitude.  The only proper way to describe any of this seems to just stare into the distance, mouth agape, wondering how one human can do so much damage to children.

Because of the horrible nature of this scandal, and the swirling reports that stated it was only a question of 'when', not 'if' Paterno was done as coach of Penn State, I felt that something big was coming.

Despite the fact that Paterno had earlier in the day announced his retirement effective at the end of the season, things still seemed to be moving too fast while still gaining steam.  In the wake of this scandal, nobody involved was safe.  Paterno could tell the Board of Trustees to not waste "...a single minute discussing my status," until he was blue in the face, but ultimately, we all knew it wouldn't matter.  His fate was literally all they could talk about. It was all anyone could talk about.

Because of the speculation about Joe Paterno's future and the vitriol spewed at him and his inaction by college football fans and media, I thought I was prepared to deal with the eventual fate of Joe Paterno, just a matter of looking up and reading the writing on the wall.

I wasn't.

I don't think any of us were.

It is still too early for us to see how much this changes Joe Paterno's legacy.  Some will argue that the good that he did outweighs his lack of judgment in this one case.  Others will argue that his inaction was inexcusable because it allowed all the sexual abuse that happened in the following years, and even in a sense enabled it by keeping Jerry Sandusky so close to the program.  

In this case, both are right.  Joe Paterno's coaching resume stands out not just because of longevity (his career is nearly old enough to apply for social security itself) or excellence (most wins in FBS history, most bowl wins, and two national championships), but because of how he coached.  To say Paterno did things "the right way" is almost disingenuous.  The man practically invented "the right way."

However, we all make mistakes, and at the end of the day, no matter how grave or far reaching the consequences of Paterno's inaction, it was merely a mistake in an otherwise remarkably impressive life and body of work.  He didn't consciously aid and embed a suspected sex offender, and I don't think he ever thought that his actions were opening up more children to possible sexual abuse.  If the man deserves anything, it is the benefit of the doubt on this fact.

Unfortunately for Paterno, intent only means so much in the face of such a horrific outcome.

I don't have any affinity for Penn State past a basic notion of Big Ten brotherhood that I feel for every team in the conference.  In the time that I seriously followed college football, Paterno was nothing more than a relic of the past.  He was the butt of old-age jokes that eventually got the last laugh when he put together a few dominant teams in the middle of the last decade.  

All this is to say that when I found myself choked up watching footage on ESPN of Paterno in the aftermath of his firing, it had nothing to do with nostalgia or love of the team.  It was simply hard to see a man who has given his life over to his players and his university; a man who has for so long embodied all the best aspects of college athletics; a man who's very essence is greatness, get a call from the Board of Trustees on a Wednesday night telling him he has been let go—the coaching equivalent of a Dear John letter.

It is easy to convince yourself that Paterno doesn't deserve this—that his legacy is too much for one mistake to overshadow—and you may be right.  However, there is one problem:  Deserve's got nothing to do with it.

Joe Paterno may not deserve to be fired over the phone a few days before what would have been his final home game, but those eight victims named in the grand jury report didn't deserve what happened to them (not to mention the other victims now coming forward).  

No other coach would make it through this scandal with a job; the fact that Paterno is a living legend shouldn't change anything.  Wrong is wrong.  Inaction is inaction.  Joe Paterno had plenty of opportunities to make this right and failed.  This goes beyond a legal definition of responsibility.  What Joe Paterno did was morally wrong, and Penn State as an institution of higher learning cannot stand for it.

Joe Paterno is no victim.  His legacy as a coach cannot overshadow his mistakes as a person.  He is simply another adult who didn't step in when he should have, and our society rightly cannot stand for that refusal to act.

In the end, that was all that mattered.