Penn State: The Other Side of This Scandal

I have two children; a son who is 12 and a daughter who is four. I worry about them every day. What they do in school, who they hang out with and who is teaching them when I am not there.

My daughter is still young enough to be insulated from the harsh realities of the world—the violence that exists in our cities, neighborhoods and streets. She goes to bed at night with a clear conscience.

My son, on the other hand, is the one I worry about most. He is growing into a young man. He is a free thinker and loves to explore new things. He is smart, maybe too smart for his own good. And when he calls me to say hello, or vice versa, I want to hear that three-year-old boy who used to call me Daddy.

I know that is not going to happen.

When I first heard about the "potential" scandal on Penn State's campus, I immediately thought of Bennett and how impressionable he is and how I hope to God he is never exposed to something like what has allegedly happened—not only to these young boys, but to the families as well that have had to deal with these tragedies.

Yes people, these are tragedies. They are unspoken acts and they are cruel and real and unforgiving.

The fact that it happened within a college sport really means nothing in the eyes of the law, just that it was exposed and it needs to be dealt with. It should have been dealt with years ago, but it needs some amount of closure.

I am not trying to sound callous about this. I think in the wake of everything that has gone on in the past five days, we need some semblance of peace. And although I know that will not happen for some time, it can be my hope that these families are adjusting to the injustices they have faced and are facing in the eyes of the media right now.

I used to think there were certain coaches and institutions that were insulated from the "real" world. That a bubble surrounded them and they were as clean as fresh linen on a spring day. Joe Paterno was one of those people. I had hoped that, as a coach, he was a leader of men—and who knows, he may have been.

But for one moment, he was a cowardly and diminutive man. He knew a grave secret and, although he knew about it, he did not do enough to prevent it. Jerry Sandusky may have been a friend, but in this case, omission was the same thing as guilt. Not doing anything was the same thing as being an accomplice. He did not commit acts, but he committed stupidity and, in this case, it is just as bad.

I am reminded that sports is just one part of my life and the lives of many. I am reminded that family, friends, work, religion and other "things" make up my existence. But sports does play a major role in my life. My heroes are men of great power, strength and knowledge. They were and are men of great deed. But I know all too well that they are not perfect and now infallible.

And for this week, sports became more important in our society than any political race, economic growth, world peace effort or, in this case, any football score that will take place today and tomorrow.

This week, everything else was second fiddle to a man who did not commit the act, but could have prevented further acts from taking place.

It is a sad state of affairs when a college rich in tradition has an 84-year-old "God" speak to the media and students on campus to announce his retirement at the end of the season because it looked like he could escape more scrutiny. Paterno had the balls to tell students, faculty and the media to not worry about him. He sounded frail, old, demented and, most of all, arrogant in so many ways, like he was bigger than the scandal and was immune to the consequences of his actions.

Joe Paterno may not have been found guilty by a group of peers in a court of law, but in the law of public opinion, he is guilty as sin.

Our society is one of greed. We all know that. We seek justice rather than truth. We want to get even at any cost and we are quick to judge before all the facts are straight. Those are "givens" of today.

Hopefully, my children and your children will see that when they grow older and change it, but that is where it stands now.

If the grand jury report was true, young boys were hurt because they trusted "leaders of men." They trusted their teachers. They trusted their mentors. And for that trust they got hurt in the most unbelievable way thought of.

Their innocence was lost.

And when you think of it, this is more damning than Cam Newton and Auburn, Baylor and its basketball program, Ohio State and some tattoos or the University of Miami and some agent offering money and prostitutes to recruits. This is about boys who trusted men to teach them right from wrong and failed miserably at it.

And as an adult, how can you look at your 12-year-old and tell him that he should still trust in his teachers and elders and those who he is supposed to?

Because I am sure that is exactly what the parents of those boys who were hurt told them before they sent them off to learn about new things.

It's a strange world we live in, and no one, not even our beloved sports heroes, are immune from its effect on how we deal with it.