The author and absurdist Richard Russo wrote a novel many years ago that was set at a typically dysfunctional university in Pennsylvania. The protagonist: a dean whose colleagues and bosses were concerned with, above all else, appearances and self-preservation, and whose own decision-making and outlook had begun to erode.
The dean recognized this in himself, but still he considered himself different, perhaps a little more purely motivated, than the rest.
As
Joe Paterno might. As
Penn State president
Graham Spanier might. As anyone who had knowledge?even second-hand?of
Jerry Sandusky?s alleged gross violations of morality and law but did little or nothing about them might.
In fictional Railton?as I suspect is the case in State College?every problem was someone else?s fault. And, where there was need for the sort of basic courage and principle most of us believe we possess, someone else?s responsibility.
?Only after we?ve done a thing do we know what we?ll do,? the dean observed, ?and by then whatever we?ve done has already begun to sever itself from clear significance, at least for the doer.?
I didn?t plan to quote the dean today. I?d hoped to quote Paterno?not from the weak, self-preserving official statement he hid behind on Monday, but rather from his direct discussions with the media Tuesday. The regularly scheduled teleconference he was supposed to have with out-of-town media. His weekly press conference with reporters in State College. Alas, both canceled almost literally at the last minute.
I?d hoped to quote Spanier, too?not from his own disingenuous official statement, but rather from a president with pulse enough to stop hiding under his desk and face this crisis of character head-on.
Paterno?s son Scott, apparently acting in the role of spokesman for his father, told reporters that the decision to cancel Paterno?s media activities was made by Spanier. Whatever. If Paterno really wanted to talk, he?d have talked. Somehow, somewhere, some way. The man?s reputation and legacy hung in the balance on Tuesday like never before.
Instead: Both the iconic old coach and the ineffectual school president?either or both of whom may be out of work soon, depending who can successfully cover his own butt?put the muzzle on talk of Sandusky and the school?s role in allowing his alleged monstrous actions to continue.
And maybe Penn State?s board of trustees, in an effort to protect the school from potential lawsuits (wad of gum, meet hole in dam), made sure to do a little muzzling, too, on the same day it reportedly began to tackle in earnest the issue of whom to fire or force into retirement.
An issue that is so beside the point, it makes me sick.
Oh, those poor boys.
How they and their families must suffer still.
I didn?t plan to quote Paterno today from the hours we spent together in his office one morning last winter, either. But I?m going to, even though I?m sure it?s not entirely fair to take him out of context like this. We were talking about the football players who arrive at Penn State from disadvantageous backgrounds, and this is what Paterno said:
?You take a kid who has had no real experience and who has no confidence in himself, who maybe comes from a broken family ? you?ve got to know what you?re doing. You?re not dealing with lamps or light posts. You?re dealing with young people.?
He could?ve been talking about the very boys who turned to Sandusky and The Second Mile. But he wasn?t. And, apparently, he never did.
Because any such talk apparently was muzzled, by himself and by his self-preserving bosses. Seems to be the Penn State way.
So what happens now? As a sordid story continues to unfold?admittedly, rendering much of what was written along the way irrelevant?perhaps Paterno will roll up his sleeves for one last fight. For his job. For his good name. For how he?ll be remembered. And all of that assuming he won?t, at some point, have to fight for his freedom.
Spanier and potentially others, too.
Paterno may fight with the same ferocity he showed in 2008, when he scoffed at claims that his program?which had seen 46 players face criminal charges over a period of five-plus years?was out of control. He bared his teeth at reporters who questioned him then. He called it a ?witch hunt.? And, indeed, it all soon blew over and everyone loved JoePa again.
He may fight like he did in 2004, when the Nittany Lions were struggling and university officials including Spanier and athletic director Tim Curley went to his house and encouraged him to step down. Paterno defiantly stood up to them all?one of the stories that made so many folks love and admire JoePa.
But it?s really not entirely charming. When criticized or challenged, even for something inarguably legitimate (see: 2008), Paterno doesn?t like to look inward. He scoffs. He mocks. Most recently, he hides behind official statements.
He becomes NoPa.
And where the unvarnished truth is concerned with this scandal growing by the hour in State College, he has been NoPa.
It?s too late for anyone in real-life Railton to undo any of the unimaginable damage Sandusky has done, but it?s not too late for Paterno, Spanier and their ilk to begin to do the right things.
To forget about appearances and self-preservation, and to fight for the only thing that matters anymore.
The victims.
