Blog #5: Penn State's Dark Knight

“You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.”

Penn State’s Dark Knight

Joe Paterno, the winningest coach in college football history and creator of Penn State’s superior image, was fired this week for doing exactly what he should’ve done. “JoePa” did nothing wrong and did not deserve to be fired.

Put yourself in his orthopedic shoes …

It’s 2002 and you are 76 years old. Your friend and former assistant coach of 30 years, Jerry, has “emeritus status” around your offices. After all, Jerry had received presidential coaching awards from George Bush Sr. He was once called “the Will Rogers of coaching” by Dick Vermeil. And yet, despite being the most sought-after coach in college football for 30 years, Jerry stayed loyal to you. He was your sidekick.

In 1999, campus police investigated Jerry for sexual contact with young boys. You didn’t want to believe it then, but you couldn’t risk your school’s future and image as a university dedicated to moral and ethical values. So you fired Jerry. But you didn’t mind him hanging around your offices. After all, he’d become a coaching legend around there. He earned it.

Then your young graduate assistant, a guy you didn’t know five years ago, comes into your office and says he saw your sidekick “kicking sides” with a young boy in the shower. That’s your loyal friend of 30 years. Possibly your best friend. The graduate assistant must be wrong. Jerry (pictured above with Joe Paterno) wouldn’t really do that.

You didn’t see it happen, but it could be possible. Regardless, you’re not gonna go straight to the police with a rumor. You must let your superiors know first. After all, at ANY COMPANY OR INSTITUTION, the company’s public image always comes first. No, that’s not evil. That’s business. A company does their own investigation and, if it finds foul play, the company handles it internally first before going to the police. This happens at every company for every possibly illegal suspicion (believe me, I know. I’m a former journalist and current corporate PR man).

If you go to the police before going to your superiors – with nothing more than a suspicious rumor – Penn State would instantly throw you under the bus with Jerry. You would be going behind your superiors' backs just to make yourself look like a hero. Penn State would have to save face so they'd fire you.

So you do the smart thing. You go to your superiors and explain what you were told. There. It’s out of your hands. Lord knows you do not want to take any part of this investigation. Your buddy Jerry isn’t even a coach anymore, so you have no responsibility over him. You do not own the Athletic Department and the showers where Jerry raped that kid. The A.D. does. And you told the A.D. what’s going on, therefore, the blood is on his hands now.

Joe Paterno did the right thing. He did what anyone else would have done. He was not responsible for Jerry Sandusky. He did not witness any crime. He did what was best for himself, for his job, for his family, for his football team and for Penn State. He could not have done anything to help the victim of the rape. Call the cops with a rumor? That would lead to nothing but trouble.

The people that should’ve gone to the police were the real authorities in the situation: the witness (young grad assistant coach Mike McQueary), the Athletic Director (Tim Curley), and the Penn State VP of Campus Police (Gary Schulz).

Strap on JoePa’s velcro shoes: would you arrest your most loyal associate, your best friend, based on a rumor? No. You would pass that responsibility onto someone else with more authority and less connection to the culprit.

Joe Paterno built Penn State with his bare hands. He does not deserve to be buried. He was not the molester. He was not the witness. He was not in charge. Yet he has calmly sacrificed his legend to save the image he built.