Stephen A. Smith: Money The Reason Penn State Keeps JoePa
On Dec. 21, Joe Paterno will turn 84 years of age. At any point in modern time, this would qualify him as old. He is not a man who talks the way he once did. Who moves the way he once did. Who accomplishes what he once did. Who is what he used to be.
Yet, Paterno is still around. Still coming back for season No. 46. Even with the Nittany Lions 7-5, strapped in the middle of the pack in the Big Ten Conference, not even sniffing at a national championship, the door always swings open for the man affectionately known as Joe Pa – but never for him to exit. In fact, Penn State fans are so mesmerized when it comes to him, don’t be surprised if there’s some push emanating from Western Pennsylvania calling for the iconic coach to be appear on “Dancing With The Stars.”
Indeed, it is plausible to surmise things could get that ridiculous.
But after watching Texas Christian University out of Fort Worth, Texas, sell its soul to move to the Big East, as did the conference in its latest grasp for cash, the only consolation to witnessing the inexplicable ways of Penn State is that, if nothing else, the school has plenty of company.
Universities stick with what works. What works is defined by how much money gets poured into their coffers. And whoever’s most responsible for bloating an institution’s pockets – whether it’s a marketing or business executive, or a coach who’s been on the sidelines since Lyndon B. Johnson passed the Voting Rights Act – is kept around for as long as possible.
Not quite before they are blind, deaf and damn-near incapacitated, of course. But pretty close.
This subject is not new and neither is my position, one that’s been written about extensively over the past three years. With apologies to proverbial Paterno-caddies like my good friend and PSU graduate, Mike Missanelli, from 97.5 The Fanatic, Paterno needs to go. Period.
I know all about the 13 consecutive bowl appearances from 1971 to 1983. I’m aware of his being en route to a 37th bowl appearance. And in the interest of avoiding folks panicking over the notion that I may have forgotten that he was the coach of the year in 2005, the Big Ten coach of the year just recently in 2008, let me also remind Mr. and Mrs. Pom Poms that it’s difficult to forget Paterno’s two national titles and five undefeated, untied seasons.
Of course we remember. Missanelli never lets me forget it.
I just don’t care any longer. And neither should anyone else.
We shouldn’t care when everyone talks about having a respectable program, and how Paterno should be applauded for not allowing Penn State to fall off the map. If that’s the best anyone can do in this day and time, a naysayer’s response should be two-fold:
One should ask, are we equating “respect” with keeping an individual around while he’s eroding before our very eyes? And isn’t respect relative to what you once were? To a standard Paterno, himself, established over the years?
National titles and Penn State are not mentioned in the same breath anymore. They’re replaced with stories about the halcyon days of a man cheered, primarily because he still has all of his faculties in order. Not because he’s dominant any longer. We keep hearing about the raspy voice, the candor, the devotion to the Nittany Lions and career win No. 400 and beyond. Meanwhile, the real issue keeps being avoided.
Paterno’s resume says he is a great coach. Recent history does not. But even if it did and he was competing for a national crown, doesn’t there come a moment when that shouldn’t matter anymore?
Is it not true that his age should matter at some point? Along with his capacity to lead young men? To relate to and ingratiate himself in a world that’s ever-changing and evolving?
In fairness to Paterno, the question is not just about him. It’s about anyone in his position, figuratively speaking.
Paterno should retire like Senator Robert Byrd (D-W.Va.) should’ve retired, at age 97. He should’ve walked away just like 80-year-old Representative Charles Rangel (D-NY) should’ve walked, having spent 40 years in office
The circumstances, while relevant in most cases, get usurped by age. At some point in time, it needs to stop being about the person’s contribution to an institution or constituency. Instead, it needs to be about what is best.
For himself. And the rest of us.
Must we always wait until the end appears unflattering and there are calls for someone to be pushed out the door (i.e. Florida State’s Bobby Bowden) before a coalition of folks have the decency to come together and say, “Enough’s Enough? It’s time for a new era?”
I’ve asked myself that question for years, never fully willing to comprehend the inevitable conclusion:
There’s too much money out there to be made. The SEC Conference has a $2.25 billion deal with ESPN, another $825 million deal with CBS. The Big Ten has its billion-dollar deal with the networks, along with the ACC. The Pac-10, Big 12 and Big East are going for theirs, as well, and nobody’s apologizing.
If that is the state of affairs in modern-day athletics, what’s the problem if we have an old figure head patrolling the sidelines? Keeping things respectable? Giving the illusion that someday a return to prominence is actually likely to happen on his watch?
These are the questions Penn State entertains, in all likelihood. No doubt doing so while counting the $$$, hugging Joe Paterno along the way.
This is America, after all. It’s the way things are done.
Everyone else is dealing with it. I guess I’d better learn.
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