Opinions surrounding former PSU coach's death should not change the facts
Everyone has an opinion on the passing of Joe Paterno.
The former Penn State coach died of a broken heart. The winningest coach in Division I college football didn’t have the will to live anymore. The Penn State board of trustees killed the 85-year-old the day they fired him, forever tainting his reputation.
Opinions are fine. Everyone is entitled to them, but they aren’t facts. They shouldn’t be confused as facts.
Paterno didn’t die of a broken heart. He died of lung cancer, which was diagnosed in November during a follow-up visit for a bronchial illness. The cancer spread and, combined with the age and fragility of Paterno, caused his death.
Was the old coach likely heartbroken? Yes.
Coaching was his life for six decades. And yes, like Paul “Bear” Bryant, he died a short time after coaching his last game. But saying he died of a broken heart is unsubstantiated. He was surrounded by his whole family — five kids, 17 grandchildren and players that he’d stayed in touch with throughout his life. Much of the Penn State community still idolized him.
Saying that he had lost his will to live is insulting.
“He died as he lived,” reads the statement from the Paterno family. “He fought hard until the end, stayed positive, thought only of others and constantly reminded everyone of how blessed his life had been.”
Paterno had so much to live for, so saying that he’d lost his will to keep living because he wasn’t coaching anymore is insulting the man that Paterno was. His legacy is that football wasn’t always the most important thing.
He preached education to his players. Much of his charity was to the Penn State libraries. The Brown alumnus made graduating players a priority before the NCAA mandated it. He is a dying breed of coaches who stay at one program out of love and loyalty, as opposed to the modern-day coach who uses any job as a stepping stone for something better.
Paterno loved Penn State so much, but when he was informed of suspicion that his longtime assistant was having inappropriate sexual contact with young boys, Paterno only told his higher-ups, not the police.
He said that in hindsight, he should’ve done more, and the board of trustees agreed. When faced with an impossible situation the trustees did they only thing they could do. They had the courage to fire the coach that had been looked at as a god for the campus. Penn State needed desperately to move on from the scandal and firing Paterno was a necessary step.
They made the right call. Sure, they could’ve handled it better. Paterno should’ve been told in person and not over the phone. But his death doesn’t change the decision or that they made the right one.
But that’s an opinion, and if we’re dealing with facts, all that can be said is that the board of trustees didn’t kill Paterno. Cancer killed Paterno.
We can mourn the coach that was a staple of Saturdays in the fall, but we can’t change the facts to make the truth more appealing. Paterno’s legacy may have the stain of the Sandusky scandal, but it doesn’t change all that he accomplished in his storied coaching careers, just as our opinions don’t change the facts.