Paterno created a state of mind, and he couldn’t live without it

FILE - In this file photo from Nov. 5, 2005, Penn State football coach Joe Paterno acknowledges the crowd during warm-ups before the NCAA college football game against Wisconsin in State College, Pa. Paterno, the longtime Penn State coach who won more games than anyone else in major college football but was fired amid a child sex abuse scandal that scarred his reputation for winning with integrity, died Sunday, Jan. 22, 2012. He was 85. (AP Photo/Carolyn Kaster, File)

By Mark Wineka

mwineka@salisburypost.com

SALISBURY — Early Sunday afternoon, my youngest son, who lives in Atlanta, sent me a text and asked, “Are you wearing your jacket in memoriam [sic]?”

I knew what he was talking about.

My brother lives in Gettysburg, Pa., and our families sometimes go long periods of time between getting together now. This past August we fixed that by gathering for almost a week in North Myrtle Beach, S.C., where, strangely, we had become the old people amid all the kids and much younger adults.

My brother is a generous soul, and he surprised me the first night I was in town by presenting me with a luxurious Penn State coat, which truly is a beautiful thing to behold, especially to this Penn State graduate.

The coat is brushed suede of several different colors, having a varsity jacket type look to it. The distinctive Nittany Lion logo dominates the back, but it’s also on the sleeves and over the heart in front.

I was blown away and made quite a fuss over the gift. Even though it was still the dog days of summer, I wore it inside our resort condo and up and down the halls outside, just to show my appreciation.

Back home, I placed the jacket on a special hanger in my upstairs closet, waiting for the colder days of fall and winter.

You know what happened then. The saddest, darkest days that can befall an institution — the Jerry Sandusky scandal and all the ramifications contained therein — hit Penn State like 10 Mack trucks squashing two ants on the highway.

The coat stayed in the closet.

When Penn State football coach Joe Paterno acknowledged soon after the child molestation charges against Sandusky went public that “I should have done more,” he unwittingly opened the door to his firing — an almost unthinkable act for many in the Penn State community.

How quickly the end came for Paterno after that. With his football program taken away from him, Paterno didn’t last three months.

The official cause of Paterno’s death Sunday will be lung cancer. I think the death certificate should have an addendum that says, “He lost something that couldn’t be replaced.”

So did we.

I’m not here to defend Paterno’s actions — or inaction — in connection to Sandusky. I fear, at the minimum, Paterno had left much of the operations of his football program to others and become a figurehead, shielded from things he should have known or totally ignorant because of a single-minded devotion to his job.

But what Paterno created over the decades as a coach, Penn State alumni will never forget. How could we? It became a state of mind.

The linebackers. The running backs. Beaver Stadium. The simple uniforms. Playing for field position. Waiting for the opponent to make a mistake. High graduation rates.

Then there was Paterno himself. The Ivy League education. The professorial spectacles. The sweaters and rolled-up pants. The pacing and yelling. The running onto the field or after referees, even into his 80s. The university and community benefactor.

The nickname — JoePa — captured the man and his state employer so succinctly.

An image I will keep of Paterno was his inclination to pace the sidelines or stroll among his players while always looking down, deep in thought and morose, as if expecting the worst.

It’s ironic that the worst came, just after he set the record for all-time wins.

I hope the day will come when the sickening Sandusky scandal somehow makes Penn State a stronger institution or provides valuable lessons for others. Take it from me, the fallout has hurt Penn State and its alumni deeply.

I think it’s appropriate that Paterno died on a Sunday — not because of the religious significance, but because it’s the day after all those Saturdays when his games were played.

It was a good day to reflect on who Paterno was — and what the future holds without him.

Sunday, I finally wore my Penn State jacket.

Contact Mark Wineka at 704-797-4263, or mwineka@ salisburypost.com