Remembering Joe Paterno

_ Like
other college football fans, I was saddened by the news of the death of Joe
Paterno at age 85. His tragic downfall, because
of numerous allegations of sexual abuse against a former assistant coach, was
the major story of the 2011 football season. (It even overshadowed the second
national championship in three years for my beloved Crimson Tide.)
While I never idolized Coach Paterno, it hurt to see how his successful career ended, with his personal reputation and the reputation of the program he built sullied forever. His dismissal was justified by Penn State’s trustees as the first step toward bringing healing to their community.
Paterno’s failed test of moral leadership will be part of his legacy. To his credit, after the disturbing news came to light, he did not try to defend his actions. “It is one of the great sorrows of my life,” Paterno said in a statement in November before Penn State fired him. “With the benefit of hindsight, I wish I had done more.”
In his last interview, with Sally Jenkins of The Washington Post, Paterno showed great distress about the victims. Then he said, “I’m happy in one sense that we called attention, throughout this state, and throughout the country probably, that this is going on,” he said. “It’s kind of been like a hidden thing. So maybe that’s good.”
Despite his negligence, Paterno was one of the greatest coaches in college football history. Of course, we all know he had more wins than anyone, but he deserves credit for winning the right way. He made a positive impact on generations of college football players, students and fans.
Paterno ran a clean program that avoided NCAA violations. He emphasized academics as much as any football coach in America. He regularly graduated more than 75 percent of his players and had 47 academic all-Americans.
Paterno set a personal example of modesty in a sport known for flamboyant behavior. He lived in a simple house and walked to his unpretentious office. He had a stable marriage and raised five children. He gave millions of dollars in salary back to the university he loved.
His modesty carried over to the football field. You always recognized the Penn State football uniform. Penn State was one of the few teams not to feature the names of the players on the back of their jerseys. The Nittany Lions’ helmet is white, with a plain blue strip down the middle, but no logo of any kind, not even a number.
The Penn State travel uniforms are my favorite. They look like junior high practice uniforms: white pants with a white jersey and dark blue numbers – and of course that plain helmet. You would never confuse them with the Oregon Ducks. Coach Paterno’s message was clear: football is a team sport.
I recall that Coach Paterno, when asked a few years ago why he hadn’t retired, said he didn’t want the same fate as Bear Bryant, who died in January after his last season. How ironic that Paterno died this January and his last loss was to Alabama.
Why didn’t this good man do more? He can no longer answer that question, and perhaps it’s merciful that he won’t have to witness the sordid trial to come.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men cannot put Coach Paterno on his pedestal again. His tragic ending makes me sad. Should a lifetime of good deeds and moral rectitude be undone by an egregious error in judgment in the twilight of life? Somehow that doesn’t seem fair. Perhaps the message to all of us is, “There but for the grace of God go I.”
Brother Rogers is a guest columnist for the Starkville Daily News.
While I never idolized Coach Paterno, it hurt to see how his successful career ended, with his personal reputation and the reputation of the program he built sullied forever. His dismissal was justified by Penn State’s trustees as the first step toward bringing healing to their community.
Paterno’s failed test of moral leadership will be part of his legacy. To his credit, after the disturbing news came to light, he did not try to defend his actions. “It is one of the great sorrows of my life,” Paterno said in a statement in November before Penn State fired him. “With the benefit of hindsight, I wish I had done more.”
In his last interview, with Sally Jenkins of The Washington Post, Paterno showed great distress about the victims. Then he said, “I’m happy in one sense that we called attention, throughout this state, and throughout the country probably, that this is going on,” he said. “It’s kind of been like a hidden thing. So maybe that’s good.”
Despite his negligence, Paterno was one of the greatest coaches in college football history. Of course, we all know he had more wins than anyone, but he deserves credit for winning the right way. He made a positive impact on generations of college football players, students and fans.
Paterno ran a clean program that avoided NCAA violations. He emphasized academics as much as any football coach in America. He regularly graduated more than 75 percent of his players and had 47 academic all-Americans.
Paterno set a personal example of modesty in a sport known for flamboyant behavior. He lived in a simple house and walked to his unpretentious office. He had a stable marriage and raised five children. He gave millions of dollars in salary back to the university he loved.
His modesty carried over to the football field. You always recognized the Penn State football uniform. Penn State was one of the few teams not to feature the names of the players on the back of their jerseys. The Nittany Lions’ helmet is white, with a plain blue strip down the middle, but no logo of any kind, not even a number.
The Penn State travel uniforms are my favorite. They look like junior high practice uniforms: white pants with a white jersey and dark blue numbers – and of course that plain helmet. You would never confuse them with the Oregon Ducks. Coach Paterno’s message was clear: football is a team sport.
I recall that Coach Paterno, when asked a few years ago why he hadn’t retired, said he didn’t want the same fate as Bear Bryant, who died in January after his last season. How ironic that Paterno died this January and his last loss was to Alabama.
Why didn’t this good man do more? He can no longer answer that question, and perhaps it’s merciful that he won’t have to witness the sordid trial to come.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men cannot put Coach Paterno on his pedestal again. His tragic ending makes me sad. Should a lifetime of good deeds and moral rectitude be undone by an egregious error in judgment in the twilight of life? Somehow that doesn’t seem fair. Perhaps the message to all of us is, “There but for the grace of God go I.”
Brother Rogers is a guest columnist for the Starkville Daily News.