I have no idea what I am supposed to do.
Joe Paterno is dead. Jerry Sandusky will spend the rest of his worthless life fighting off the sexual advances of Pennsylvania’s prison population. Silas Redd is a USC Trojan, Rob Bolden is an LSU Tiger (good luck LSU… HAHAHA), Penn State hired an Irish coach, and they added names to the backs of the most classic jerseys in all of sports.
I feel a little like I am reconnecting with a high school friend. We bump into each other at the mall and make plans to catch up later. When I arrive at the predetermined destination, I find my old friend has spent the last 10 years selling cell phones in the mall, blowing coke and dating girls that still have a curfew. He still looks like the guy I used to know. Except he has chest hair sticking out of his shirt, he missed the memo that blowouts went out of style and there is a ring of white powder around his nose.
Despite all these changes, I still find I cannot help but laugh at my old friend’s jokes and at the end of the night, after I have intervened to keep him from starting three fights, we make plans to meet out again.
This is me with Penn State Football. I was and am sickened by what took place at that school under Joe Paterno. I am ashamed that I defended him and all that he supposedly stood for. But to me, that has very little, if nothing to do with the players on the field. Although the next few years are going to be tough to swallow (thanks to the NCAA taking an absolute wrecking ball to the program), I am sure I will still at least check the scores. At least I should have more free time on Saturdays for the next few years.
I don’t think I have the capacity to change teams at this point. I am not sure I would be able to look at myself in the mirror if I did.