Originally, in the Tribute to Joe post, I improperly deduced that Joe Paterno had been diagnosed with cancer before his first broken pelvis incident, because of some ambiguity in Jay Paterno’s speech. My conjecture has been subjected to the keen eyes and minds of my readers, who have shown it to be false. What I initially published was:

One thing I picked up from his speech was that Joe had been diagnosed with lung cancer before he was treated for the broken pelvis, inasmuch as Jay spoke of taking a walk in Sunset Park with Joe after he was diagnosed, a day before he fractured his pelvis, which confirms my suspicions about his delaying treatment until after the football season.

After having received some comments, I reviewed Jay’s speech, but I still could not determine whether the broken pelvis incident was the first or the second. If it was indeed the second, it occurred on December 11, 2011, which wouldn’t imply that Joe delayed his cancer treatments. Clearly, I missed an obvious and important indicator, as one additional tweeter brought out: Jay had spoken of  it being cold during the walk and he had referred to “the few leaves”; therefore, I have deleted the above sentence from the post. Jay obviously implied that it was, indeed, December.

Furthermore, ESPN had reported the following:

Scott Paterno said on Nov. 18 that his father was being treated for lung cancer. The cancer was diagnosed during a follow-up visit for a bronchial illness. A few weeks after that revelation, Paterno also broke his pelvis after a fall but did not need surgery.

I’ll let that put the lid on this matter. I regret any inconvenience or concern my inappropriate conjecture might have caused.

One more thing. I have it on good word that Jay is the second youngest Joe and Sue’s offspring. Word!

Former Penn State head football coach, the late Joe Paterno, was memorialized on Thursday afternoon before a packed house of more than 10,000 at Bryce Jordan Center, where the Nittany Lions play basketball. The event was as emotional as we expected, but it was replete with humor, with hitherto unknown Paterno vignettes, and with one ballsy speech by the founder of Nike and Joe’s friend, Phil Knight.

The VIP section occupied most of the basketball court, with the Paterno family and close friends in the front rows, then the present Nittany Lions football team, and behind them, a myriad players from past teams. The cameras trained on Sue Paterno before the speeches started, as she hugged children and grandchildren and expressed her gratitude. Speakers for the event had been invited by the Paterno family, and some videos collages had been produced to fill some of the gaps. These were very well done, considering the brief time in which they had to be put together.

Joe, of course, would have hated it. He publicly despised this type of attention — at least that was his story for external consumption. Upon accepting awards, Paterno would always humbly credit his family, his university, and his team before he would take any credit himself.

Upon reflection, I have a few observations to share with you, mainly concerning Phil Knight’s speech. Before I get to that, I’ll mention some other things I found notable.

The Penn State administration was conspicuous in its absence from list of invited speakers. The one exception was the Susan Welch, Dean of the College of Liberal Arts. She was a natural, because of Joe’s love of literature and the arts, which led him to establish the Paterno fellowship for outstanding liberal arts students. Lauren Perrotti, current Penn State senior and Paterno Fellow, also spoke.

Had he somehow been alive to plan his own memorial (which he would have hated), Joe probably would have  invited the university president to speak, just because of Paterno’s graciousness and sense of propriety. However, Joe’s family had a bad taste in its collective mouth from the actions of the administration and the Board of Trustees. Even though Steve Garban, long-time trustee had been Joe’s friend, he was not invited. Obviously, the family, most notably Sue, had strong feelings about the impropriety of Joe’s dismissal. On November 9, after Fran Ganter delivered the notorious note that told Joe to call a number that turned out to be a telephone at a local hotel where the board was meeting, Sue handed Joe the note, he called, and heard the voice on the other end tell him he was no longer head football coach at Penn State. He told Sue. She phoned the number back to tell them in one sentence what she thought of their action and then hung up. Sue will always think negatively of the people who did this to her husband. In the days following Joe’s dismissal, Sue had even been personally insulted when she went to take her daily swim in the Lasch Building swimming pool and was told that she no longer had privileges there because her husband was no longer an employee. There was no way in hell anyone associated with the administration or the BOT would be invited!

Football players representing each decade of Joe’s tenure as head coach were consistently articulate and excellent speakers whose love for Joe shone through. Kenny Jackson, Charlie Pittman (1960s), Jimmy Cefalo (1970s), Todd Blackledge (1980s), Chris Marrone (1990s), and Michael Robinson (2000s) from past teams, and Mike Mauti of the current team consistently praised Joe for his principles, his support, and his devotion. I learned something new from each one of them.

Mike Robinson, representing 2000 – 2010, spoke of his frustration with Paterno and his struggles to be named the starting quarterback. Joe was frank with him about his abilities and his future. He told Robinson that he could see him playing in the Pro Bowl someday, not as a quarterback, but as a fullback or a running back. Robinson, who currently plays fullback for the Seattle Seahawks of the NFL, was selected as a replacement player for the Pro Bowl this year. He went with the old man’s wisdom, which was contrary to his own self-assessment, and found his niche in the NFL, one from which he could make a significant impact.

Jimmy Cefalo, representing the 1970s, spoke of Joe recruiting him — or rather, recruiting his mom. At the moment when Joe told Mrs. Cefalo that her pasta was better than Mrs. Cappelletti’s, the young Jimmy knew he was going to Penn State to play wide receiver for the Nittany Lions. “That’s hitting below the belt, Joe!”  His football career, as you know, was a smashing success. When he had finished during his senior year and had met all the academic requirements for his degree in journalism, he decided to take his remaining few months as a Penn State undergrad easy, scheduling a light load of basket weaving courses. Subsequently, Paterno called him into his office. Cefalo wondered what it was about, as he was done with football. Upon his arrival for the meeting, the coach waved the class schedule at him and said, “What do you think you’re doing, Cefalo? This schedule is beneath you!”

Mike Mauti of the current team was a bit nervous speaking in front of such a large audience, but he settled down quickly, telling of Paterno’s comparing him with his dad who had also played for Joe. Another recruiting story came out. Mauti would decide on Penn State rather impulsively on one of his visits to Joe’s office with his parents. Joe pinned him down, “All right, kid, I need your decision. What’s it going to be?” Mauti responded, “I’m here!” At that point, Rich Mauti, the father, chimed in, “You said you were going to talk it over—”  Paterno cut him off as if he had caught him telling tales in the locker room. “Shut up, Mauti!” he said, “You heard the kid. He’s here!”

Throughout the speeches, the notion that Sue Paterno was a central figure in recruiting and nurturing players became well established, as did both Mr. and Mrs. Paterno’s concern for academics.

Phil Knight is the founder and CEO of Nike. He has been a friend of Joe Paterno for many years. He was the only speaker to have the chutzpah to address the elephant in the room, namely the  Sandusky scandal and the Board of Trustees’ rush to judgement to make Joe the scapegoat. He received the longest ovation of the afternoon for expressing what was on everyone’s mind — that Joe had gotten a bum rap that threatened to diminish his legacy. Perhaps the other speakers had something to lose by mentioning the controversy, perhaps they were told to avoid it, or perhaps they felt it would be Joe’s wish that they avoid it. After all, Paterno had never protested his own firing or expressed any bitterness in public over the hatchet job done on him by the media in the wake of the Board’s action. However, when one is as secure as Phil Knight, one can express the painful truth with impunity. Paterno, he said, had not committed the crime but was taking the blame for it because he was a convenient target for the media. Knight flat out stated that Paterno followed the rules, sent the matter up the chain of command as prescribed, and placed the matter in the hands of a world class university. If any villain existed, said Knight,  it was in the investigation, not Joe Paterno. Knight asked, “Who is the real trustee at Penn State?” It all had to be said, especially the part about the media hatchet job (reminding me of Newt Gingrich calling out CNN), to clear the air so the beloved coach could rest in peace.

This Turkey applauds Phil Knight for opening up his mouth. Say what you will about his cheap foreign labor, expensive shoes, bullying of the NCAA, and the weird uniforms Nike produced this year, Phil has a heart, a soul, and a sense of propriety. Paterno was his friend and hero. Phil had his “six”.

Jay Paterno was the cleanup batter, whose speech was everything you would expect it to be. He expressed pride in being Joe’s namesake, of which he is reminded each time he looks at his driver’s license and sees “Joseph V. Paterno, Jr.”.  As long as I’ve been listening to Jay talk about the team, the university, and anything related, he has always referred to his dad as Joe. During this remembrance, however, it was mostly “Dad.” The one thing that fell flat with the crowd was Jay’s attempted imitation of Joe, which didn’t really work. At two different times while he was at the podium, when the audience stood and cheered him on, he yelled, “SIT DOWN!” just the way his dad would have, in his high pitched, agitated voice. It didn’t really sound right coming from baby-faced Jay, and it didn’t sound much like Joe, anyway. Jay’s wrap-up was touchingly emotional. He  by led everyone in the Lord’s Prayer, just as his dad had done after each football game, then said he had one more story to tell. He spoke of his childhood and the strong presence of his dad in the family. He spoke of his final day with Joe, when the two of them were alone together in the hospital room, how he saw flashbacks of his life’s various stages, always including his dad. Much as he had played on the floor in the study when his dad was working, there he was once again alone with Joe, the the father-son duo. Only now, it was Jay’s turn to be the pillar of strength and the giver of advice.  He kissed his dad and told him, “You’ve done all that you could do. You won. We all love you. You can go home now.”

Afterward, a lone trumpeter wearing a classic Blue Band uniform played a mournful version of “Hail to the Lion.”

Jay is Joe’s second youngest offspring, who willfully bore much of the burden for Joe’s final arrangements, even though he was clearly devastated by his loss. No matter what you might think of Jay’s performance as a coach, in this much more important function Jay delivered the performance of his life. Through the whole sordid affair of the Sandusky affair and Joe’s dismissal, and through the tragedy of Joe’s leaving this earth, Jay has impressed me as being a professional in his business conduct and a rock solid family man. He has earned my respect.

Because of Joe’s love for opera, particularly Italian opera, one of the video sound tracks was the late Luciano Pavarotti’s signature aria “Nessun Dorma” from Turandot. This Turkey thought it fit perfectly. It concludes with a proclamation, “All’alba vincerò. Vincerò! Vincerò!” (At dawn I will win. I will win! I will win!).

I’ll remember many of the speeches I heard Thursday, but it will be Knight’s as well as Jay’s that imprinted themselves most indelibly on my memory.

What did you all think of the tribute? Did it give you a sense of closure, or did it still leave things hanging? And what did you think of Jay’s attempted Joe imitation?

Those of us who knew Joe Paterno through direct and indirect association (in my case, the latter, for nearly 50 years) were well aware of his indomitable spirit. In fact, he was so stubborn — completely intractable at times — that many of us eschewed political correctness in our frustration with his decisions, calling him not so lovingly “that stubborn wop”.

Joe was family to us Penn Staters, so we could talk freely about his bourbon and ginger, his stubborn streak, his Italianness, his Catholicism and such, just as we would have done back in the day on the sidewalks and stoops of his native Brooklyn. Joe grew up in an earthier era when such arguments and put-downs were the spice of life.  Moreover, like family, when the controversy of the moment had ended, we’d kiss and make up, many times having to admit that the old man was right.

Thus it was with disdain that following his death on Sunday, that I observed so many commentators choosing the lazy road, opining — nay, pontificating — that Old Joe had died of a broken heart. They didn’t know Joe. They couldn’t have. I attempted to dispel that broken heart notion with anyone who would listen to me, but everyone is entitled to an opinion and few ever change theirs.

“My life has been filled with sunshine. A beautiful and caring wife. Five healthy children. I got to do what I loved. How many people are that lucky?” –Joseph V. Paterno, 1926-2012

You know what “they” say about opinions.

My personal opinion is that Joe’s spirit could not be broken by the Sandusky scandal and the ensuing, undeserved, ignominious knee-jerk dismissal by the Board of Trustees. Joe had been through innumerable tough situations during the course of his long life but he never showed signs of faltering in the face of adversity. In the end, what defeated him was not “a broken heart” but metastatic small cell carcinoma of the lung. I would be willing to bet that Joe faced his illness as yet another sturdy opponent to study and defeat. Alas, this one had already advanced too far by the time he was ready to begin his fight. He was flanked by metastases like a quarterback being attacked by a blitz with his pocket collapsing around him. It was only a matter of time before Joe was sacked by the marauding rogue cells. However, you can be certain that he went down swinging, not wallowing in self-pity or grimacing with bitterness.

Writer Joe Posnanski has been immersing himself in Joe’s life — and unexpectedly, his death — for many months as he researches the biography he is writing called “PATERNO”, to be published by Simon & Shuster in September. He spent time with Joe and the Paterno family during Joe’s final days, and wanted to share some details of that time with us via a short piece he wrote for Sports Illustrated. In it, he asserts that Joe Paterno did not die of a broken heart. When Joe entrusted Posnansky to write his biography, he chose wisely.

Let us lay that sorry-ass “broken heart” story line to rest!

One other thing worthy of note here: Thursday’s “A Memorial For Joe” will air live on both the Big Ten Network and BTN.com at 2 PM EST.

Sadly, but predictably, a collection of judgmental, misinformed, and misguided cretins seeks to deny the Paterno family the peace and comfort to which they are entitled. These are self-centered, highly opinionated, no account fools who merely seek attention from others who can be swayed as easily as they were and who leverage the deaths of celebrities, children, and soldiers to abet their nefarious causes. High profile events such as Joe Paterno’s death provide a springboard for these walking, talking disasters to gain the attention they apparently never received as children.

I’m not referring to the real journalists and bloggers who are fomenting discussion of Paterno’s legacy. That debate has merit, although some of us Joe supporters are so blindly devoted that we cannot allow ourselves to accept that Joe wasn’t perfect or even close to it. If you would never read a discussion of pros and cons of Joe’s career in order to delude yourself into believing that no negatives existed, at least you’re not doing anyone any harm by living in your dream world. You’re no doubt as opposed to child molestation as any of us, but you merely deny Joe’s culpability in the whole Sandusky mess, considering him the scapegoat selected along with Graham Spanier by the BOT to present the appearance of having taken strong action.

On the other hand there are those who merely hop on an anti-Paterno bandwagon because they somehow associate him with child abuse. They do this with no knowledge of what type of man Joe Paterno was all his life, and certainly without knowledge of the specifics of the Sandusky situation. In fact, none of us know the whole story about what transpired after the molestation incidents, who told whom what, and why actions were or were not taken by all of the individuals involved. Joe has taken the major brunt of the scapegoat attacks for this sordid affair, but why Joe? Why not Spanier? Do you think there’s a chance in hell that if Curley and Schultz knew about this, Spanier didn’t know? Is it possible that Joe informed his superiors and took all other prescribed actions that he was obligated to take? The reasoning behind why he did not go to the police is far too complicated for you pinhead anti-Paterno people to fathom, so I won’t bother enumerating all the possibilities. I’ll consider just one: I suspect that the institution did not want the stain on its record (read fund raising issues) that going outside it would bring about. You have to think that Spanier is more culpable than Paterno for preventing the information from getting out. (Once the police have it, the public and the media have full access to it.)

Yes, this is wrong, but as I’ve noted here in other posts, this is the way universities like to play it. Everything dirty gets swept under the rug if at all possible. When the news gets out, it is inevitably well after the fact, and by then, some asses have been covered and some lambs prepared for sacrifice. In Penn State’s case, assuming that the fish stinks from the head on down, Spanier was the person most culpable for the cover-up and Curley (who himself has lung cancer) and Schultz (who had retired) were the lambs. Joe, the perennial fund raiser, was probably told to keep his hands clean. In any case, institutional paranoia undoubtedly played a big part in the whole notion of a cover-up, and certainly you’ll agree that Paterno is not singularly to blame.

Neither did Paterno molest any boys, although the pea-brains do not make the distinction between being told something was going on in that shower (perhaps pretty vaguely) and committing the act. We’re all pretty sure that Sandusky is the one who committed the crime, but I cannot believe that Joe Paterno willfully facilitated Sandusky’s behavior in the shower. If the charges against Sandusky prove to be accurate, he was a sick man who would have found his opportunities to make contact with boys had his Penn State office and locker room privilege not existed. The boys were not Penn State students; he did not find them there. In fact, at least one of his accusers was a student at a school where he was coaching the football team, with no connection to Penn State. Does Paterno get the blame for that, too? For not locking him up somewhere and throwing away the key because of hearsay facts that were largely hidden from Joe? Or perhaps he knew everything. I don’t know. You don’t either. Yet Paterno is the target of more condemnation than is Sandusky. He was and is a very convenient, high profile scapegoat.

The condemnation is coming from a broad base: Internet nitwits — “trolls” — who frequent message boards just so they can spout off and get attention, barroom bullies who are just looking to pick a fight (thus seeking attention), and organizations such as the notorious Westboro Baptist Church, which never lets a good celebrity funeral go to waste. You know those morons, the ones who loudly protest at funerals for slain Marines? That bunch of quasi-religious goons is seeking to make its presence felt at Joe’s funeral. The message board types post impertinent, misinformed, vitriolic buckets of bile on any forum they can access — just to get attention. This outrageous behavior is permissible under the First Amendment, of course, but it doesn’t mean that the protesters have any valid points, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean they’re not assholes.

In fact, anyone who “hates on” Joe without knowing all the facts is an asshole in my book. Pin them down on why they’re acting the way they’re acting — they’ll inevitably reveal that they don’t even know the story that was printed in national newspapers and broadcast on TV ad nauseam. They listen to other assholes and spread bullshit stories that they think are correct, even if they don’t have the slightest idea what they’re talking about. Why? Because they need attention and their deficient brains think that this is the perfect springboard for getting it. In the process they sway even more lemmings to jump off the cliff and — you get the picture — a misinformed, misguided viral firestorm results. Any hope of seeking truth is clouded by the fog of lies and blind allegations spewed by the haters.

Yeah, you can see that I’m not observing journalistic neutrality dicta here — in fact, I’m becoming more and more pissed off at the haters as I write this. I know I’ve used some strong language, but that’s the way I feel, and damnit, that’s the emotional honesty you know you’re getting when you come here. Alas, there will always be assholes, and I have no doubt that I’m stirring up an asshole’s nest by writing this. (Another one of my famous mixed metaphors, just for the hell of it.) But hell, I think that most of you agree that on balance, Joe’s life made a very positive impact on many aspects of university life at Penn State and beyond. The Paterno family and the Penn State family together hope that the haters settle down and the Joe can rest in peace, not torment.

Thank you again for reading this.

When former Penn State head football coach Joe Paterno decided to eschew law school in favor of coaching football, his disappointed father Angelo told him to “make an impact.” He listened. Joe certainly made an impact on everything with which he was involved. It is tragic that his tenure had to come to an end the way it did, and we pray that some of the damage to Joe’s legacy exacted by the hasty rush to judgment by the Board of Trustees can be repaired. In the meanwhile, the vigils and tributes have been amazing, albeit somewhat expected. In this edition of “Quick Hits”, which will hereinafter called “Sudden Impact” (thanks to Artificially Sweetened, who actually devoted a significant chunk of her valuable time to ruminations about potential titles), we provide links to several tributes and campus reports.

(Pictured above: Joe’s name and his trademark glasses depicted in candles placed on the steps to Old Main as students, faculty, alums, and supporters paid tribute to the late head coach.)

The official PSU athletic department site has a collection of thoughts penned about Joe in the brief time since his passing this morning, including President George H. W. Bush, Archie Manning, and several Big Ten and Non-Big Ten coaches. There will be more, so this installment is called “Reflections on Joe Paterno, Part I“.

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Ivan Maisel reports on the tributes on campus in the Big Ten Blog.

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Bob Flounders recounts the differing reactions of Joe Paterno’s friends and co-workers to his passing in the PennLive.com sports blog.

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Penn State Live has a story and many pictures of tonight’s candlelight vigil.

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From the York Daily Record, Frank Bodani: Paterno’s life work ends with a broken heart

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Mark Brennan of Fight on State reports that the lights will be left on at Beaver Stadium until Joe’s memorial service sometime later this week.

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Shelly Stallsmith of the Patriot-News advises the haters to go away.

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And finally, from JoePa’s Doghouse, a cute little vignette of life from the perspective of a child.

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At least for this Turkey, the full impact of this one life without Joe Paterno has yet to be felt. There will be no more Tuesday media gatherings with the inevitable admonition that “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about!” and the cautionary note that, for example, “Coastal Carolina is a well coached, good football team.” No more pacing on the sidelines, chewing out McQueary, chasing after game officials. Even though I’ve had since November 9 to gird myself for these voids, I still feel it’s surreal. Beyond the loss of the quirky head football coach, we all lost a friend, mentor, and virtual family member. Just about anyone who attended Penn State over the past 50 years has a Paterno story or two to tell. Why not? We all grew up with Joe’s constant presence in our lives. For those of us lucky enough to have been in that position, the loss will be felt more deeply, but the memories will last throughout our lifetime.

Goodbye, Joe.

Joseph V. Paterno 1926 - 2012

Joe Paterno died of metastatic small cell carcinoma of the lung this morning at 9:25 AM surrounded by his family. He was 85.

Words fail me at the moment. There is just so much to say that it is beyond the capabilities of this meager blog. All I wish to add to the official statement is that I hope this legendary coach will be properly honored — that bygones can be bygones and that there will be no asterisks next to his achievements. I would hope that the Maxwell Club would think again about restoring his name to their coaching trophy, that he will receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom posthumously, and that other knee-jerk reactions of that sort can be reversed. There will never be another like Joe.

The Nittany Turkey wishes the Paterno family comfort at this time of loss.