I maintain to this day that the most amazing thing I’ve seen in a quarter century plus of watching hockey is Mario Lemieux’s comeback in 2000-01.
Le Magnifique took a three year hiatus from the game, returned during the heart of the appalling dead puck era and promptly tallied 76 points in 43 games. That remarkable average of 1.77 points per game extrapolates to a 145 point season; assuming you could suspend disbelief enough to think Lemieux could ever suit up for all 82 games.
Taken in context of the era, the scoring championship was won that year by Jaromir Jagr, who just happened to be Lemieux’s line-mate with 121 points. The highest scoring player not sharing a locker room with Big 66 was Joe Sakic with 118 points. No other player scored more than 96.
And I left out the part about Lemieux scoring three points in his first game back including setting up a goal in the game’s opening minute. Which is to say in the immortal words of Marc Liverant, he was back to making a mockery of the game…on his first shift.
It is blatantly unfair to measure Sidney Crosby’s comeback against such lofty standards. At least that’s what I told myself as Emily and I entered the new energy barn last Monday night. As indescribably exciting as it was to luck in to attending that game (and I assure you it was just that), I told myself all the way to faceoff that there was no conceivable way that Crosby could match Lemieux’s prowess and to keep my expectations in check.
So much for that theory.
Crosby did not just match Lemieux’s performance, he beat it; four points to three. That included two breathtakingly spectacular goals, the first of which was as impressive as any I’ve seen in the NHL this season. Even more impressive, Crosby was far and away the best player on the ice, a surface he was sharing with the rejuvenated Geno Malkin and the Islanders lost wunderkind John Tavares. It was eerily similar to Lemieux doing the same thing that magical December night in 2000 while sharing the ice with Jagr.
Which is to say the game, heck the event was frighteningly reminiscent of the Mario’s return. It started with a positively electric atmosphere, one completely disproportionate to an early season week night game. It ended with an identical 5 to 0 Penguin rout. It was one of those rare sporting events that you simply did not want to end.
There were differences as well. Crosby’s unexcused absence was 11 months, in comparison to Lemieux’s 3.5 years. In addition, Lemieux was retired which means his conditioning was likely “suspect“ (and I’m being charitable) during his time off. Crosby in contrast has been skating hard for months and dominating practices while waiting for “clearance for contact.”
Morover, Le Magnifique returned against a Toronto team that ultimately earned a playoff spot. Crosby returned against a team that might miss the post season if it were relegated to the ECHL. The Leafs started a borderline hall of famer in goal in Curtis Joseph, the Islanders started 4th stringer Anders Nilsson.
[As an aside, did anybody else find it funny that on a stage of this magnitude the Isles choose to start Nilsson rather than their $65 Million supposed franchise goaltender Rick DiPietro? Enjoy writing those checks for another decade…party on Garth (Snow)!]
Given those differences I can afford Mario the slight edge on impressive comebacks; with the caveat that I am quite literally splitting hairs to make that assessment. At the end of the day we are still talking about a brilliant four point performance that most players dare not dream of. Even that does not fully reflect Crosby’s dominance; his mastery of the faceoff circle or how many scoring chances he created. It was other worldly or dare I say Lemieux-esque.
When Crosby suffered his concussion(s) last season he was putting on the most dominant offensive performance the NHL had witnessed since that fabulous Lemieux comeback season. And when he returned to the ice on Monday night, he picked up right where he left off. That in and of itself is perhaps the most amazing part of the story. If I went that long without typing I would lose 20% of my speed.
For a more realistic comparison consider Jordan Staal struggling throughout last season to regain form after an 8 month absence. I expected Crosby would find his game faster than Staal but I still thought it would take some time. It took one shift.
It continued on Friday night when Crosby added three points against overwhelmed Ottawa and showed a renewed feistiness as well. Even his scoreless performance against St’Louis resulted in a tying goal with him on the ice.
The truth of the matter is this; Crosby is right now exactly what he was supposed to be when he entered the league. Not just the best player in the game bar none but one of the truly great players to ever play. Statistically it may be a tad early to make that assessment. Realistically it is not. We got previews of this ability in both the 2009 playoffs against Washington and the first part of last season. Watching him now after ten months in the post-concussion wilderness merely reinforces the obvious.
Keep in mind that Crosby can be measured almost every night against Malkin, who has resumed his place as one of the most dominant offensive forces in the game. Malkin’s return alone spurred the Penguins beyond where they were last spring when consistently hard work rarely translated in to goals. That’s the same Malkin who for my money out performed Sid in both 2007-08 and 2008-09 (an opinion which is permanently archived in writing through the miracle of the internet…for better or for worse).
Those days are now behind us. Malkin is a truly elite hockey player; Crosby is just one step better. For reference, think Lemieux versus Steve Yzerman when both were in their heyday.
What’s truly amazing about Crosby is he continues to improve while many other superstars around him plateau of even fade. Is there anybody outside the 301 area code for example that still thinks Alex Ovechkin is Sid’s equal, let alone the better player? And keep in mind that Sid remains eminently coachable while the great 8 is, in the definition of irony, cursing out Bruce Boudreau.
I still consider Lemieux the most supremely dominant hockey player I’ve ever seen. I remain reluctant to suggest any current player as his equal. As recently as the start of last season I considered any such comparisons utter blasphemy.
I’m not quite ready to renege on that position, but Sid the Kid is putting a real dent in my convictions.
There is unfortunately one other comparison to Lemieux that we cannot ignore. Just as we lived in perpetual fear of Mario’s balky back, we will fear future Crosby concussions. We will swallow hard and hold our collective breath every time he takes a rough hit. We will seize up in terror when the David Backus’ of the world take a swipe at Crosby’s cranium. Those concerns will be multiplied when and if Sid signs what figures to be a 7 year plus deal for $10 Million a year; before July of 2013.
So be it. Such things are out of our control. We can no more control Sid’s health than Nilsson can stop his high speed backhand roof job. We just have to hope that Crosby like many others (Ben Roethlisberger for example) can shake the concussion issues and remain dominant and healthy. I always felt that Lemieux’s health issues cheated the Pens out of several more Stanley Cups. I hope the same is not true of Sid. The Penguins are a very good team without him. They are very likely the best team in the NHL with him.
There is a lot of hockey to be played between now and June. And as we learned last season, a lot of things can happen in that span, for better or for worse. There are no guarantees that the Pens will carry the cup in June just because Sid the Kid is back in the line-up.
No guarantees…but the odds look a whole lot better.
ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY PENGUIN…BLESSED BE THE PENGUIN, FOR IT IS GOOD.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
A Sad and Shocking End
This cannot be how it ends. And yet it is.
One sick, depraved human being has taken down an icon, bringing a proud university to its knees in the process.
Not alone of course; he had several unwilling accomplices. Whatever you may feel about the Penn State administration right now I can guarantee this; none of them wanted to be in this position. If they covered for Jerry Sandusky for whatever reason; to save the school or to save him, I assure you it was not by choice. It was because right or wrong, and it’s most likely wrong, they felt they had to.
To what extent Joseph Vincent Paterno was involved in that collaboration remains a mystery. It may never be fully understood. And it’s now irrelevant. The die has been cast and barring a dramatic change in facts or circumstances, he will be deemed fully complicit in these horrific events.
A significant majority believe that Paterno, either through negligent inaction or a conspiracy to defraud enabled a horrific scandal with devastating consequences. A small minority believe he is a high powered scapegoat, served up to satisfy public bloodlust. I honestly don’t know what to believe.
I cannot recall an event that has shaken my core convictions to this degree.
I do not expect those who are not part of the Penn State family to understand our grief. How can I expect others to understand it when I can't explain it myself? All I know is what I felt when the announcement was made official, profound sadness.
This is a DEVASTATING time for all of us in the Penn State community.
It’s not the act of JoePa's firing in and of itself that saddens me. It’s what it represents. This surreal nightmare is now undeniable on every level. Until this week any notion of Penn State football without Paterno was inconceivable, let along Paterno being fired. That it happened and happened so suddenly crystalizes on every level the monumental nature of this scandal.
Many have called JoePa's dismissal the end of an era. You cannot fathom how inadequate that description is to the events at hand.
You must understand Penn State is a massive extended family. Our family has hundreds of thousands of members. It stretches across years and decades and thousands of miles. We are incredibly broad and diverse, different in so many ways. The one thing that binds us is an undying love of The Pennsylvania State University. And yes part of that is represented in our love and respect for Penn State football.
Understand this, whatever you may think of him right now, Joe Paterno was the patriarch of our family. He was quite literally the physical embodiment of this place we hold so sacred. His termination represents a spiritual death to our family, to our school, and to our beliefs. For that we mourn.
We mourn for the man we knew, and we mourn in fear of the man we may not have known.
We mourn for the destruction of a great man and that man’s reputation. We mourn the systematic annihilation of six decades of our history.
And we mourn our fear that perhaps the great man was not so great after all. At least not when it mattered the most.
Do not interpret our grief as an endorsement of his action or lack thereof. We all understand that gravity of this situation. I have opinions on Paterno’s culpability but I’m unwilling to share them. For one thing I don’t trust my feelings and convictions. I’m not sure I can see clearly through my emotions or bias. For another, I quite literally dread the next development that might make things worse.
Part of me cannot fathom that 60 plus years of dedicated service to one university is being wiped away. That’s 60 plus years, a lifetime of coaching, teaching, and mentoring young men. Some coaches are associated with a school or program. Joe Paterno literally is Penn State football. He is the universal constant for every Penn Stater past and present.
The other part of me cannot fathom that he may have played some role, however peripheral in these horrific crimes. He neither perpetrated nor witnesses these acts. And to whatever extent he enabled them he was not alone. It does not matter. Anyone involved in this appalling tragedy must be held accountable.
In my perfect world a man with a six decade track record of excellence would have been given the benefit of the doubt. We would have allowed for due process, for ALL of the facts to be known before such drastic action was taken.
Alas that was not realistic. I knew by Tuesday that JoePa would never coach another game. This scandal became too big, too fast. His position became untenable as did so many others. I knew this with absolute certainty.
And still I cried when the announcement was made. The raw emotion of the moment was more powerful than I ever expected. Even now I can’t grasp the non-stop “Paterno fired” headline that’s living in perpetuity on cable TV.
Jerry Sandusky is the ultimate bad guy here. Everyone who suffers for this does so ultimately because of him. Others made bad decisions, horrible perhaps but he and only he committed these heinous crimes. I will never back off of that belief.
That does not absolve the actions of our leaders. We entrusted them with something we hold sacred and they betrayed that trust. Their actions and decisions have brought shame to the entire Penn State community. Any and all who were involved must pay with nothing less than their jobs. If that includes Joe Paterno then so be it.
It’s just so hard to believe.
Let me be clear on this point, we are NOT the victims here. The kids that Sandusky abused AND ONLY those kids deserve your thoughts, sympathy and prayers. The entire Penn State community however is collateral damage.
The damage to the university is incalculable; as is the pain and sadness felt by its students and alumni. We’ve been stripped of our dignity, turned in to a nationwide object of scorn and ridicule. Hundreds of thousands are suffering because of the heinous actions of one man, and the subsequent action or inaction of several others.
We suffer twice, once for the kids and once for our school. And we suffer in silence. Nobody wants to hear our pain. Our betrayal pales in comparison to the betrayal of those kids, and we all know it. If we suffer out loud we are called apologists, enablers, or worse. We are not any of those things; just hurt, confused, and profoundly sad.
We cannot defend the indefensible; nor have we tried. It is stunning how many lives have been negatively affected by the actions of one deeply disturbed human being.
I don’t know that we will ever fully come to grips with that. And frankly we're not ready to do so. Right now we are dealing with profound changes to our reality; a reality we've taken as a given our entire lives.
It’s ironic that so many of us were calling for Paterno’s retirement before this happened. There was endless debate as to whether he stayed too long. Many felt, in spite of all he had done, that it was time for the Paterno era to end.
None of us wanted it to end like this.
One sick, depraved human being has taken down an icon, bringing a proud university to its knees in the process.
Not alone of course; he had several unwilling accomplices. Whatever you may feel about the Penn State administration right now I can guarantee this; none of them wanted to be in this position. If they covered for Jerry Sandusky for whatever reason; to save the school or to save him, I assure you it was not by choice. It was because right or wrong, and it’s most likely wrong, they felt they had to.
To what extent Joseph Vincent Paterno was involved in that collaboration remains a mystery. It may never be fully understood. And it’s now irrelevant. The die has been cast and barring a dramatic change in facts or circumstances, he will be deemed fully complicit in these horrific events.
A significant majority believe that Paterno, either through negligent inaction or a conspiracy to defraud enabled a horrific scandal with devastating consequences. A small minority believe he is a high powered scapegoat, served up to satisfy public bloodlust. I honestly don’t know what to believe.
I cannot recall an event that has shaken my core convictions to this degree.
I do not expect those who are not part of the Penn State family to understand our grief. How can I expect others to understand it when I can't explain it myself? All I know is what I felt when the announcement was made official, profound sadness.
This is a DEVASTATING time for all of us in the Penn State community.
It’s not the act of JoePa's firing in and of itself that saddens me. It’s what it represents. This surreal nightmare is now undeniable on every level. Until this week any notion of Penn State football without Paterno was inconceivable, let along Paterno being fired. That it happened and happened so suddenly crystalizes on every level the monumental nature of this scandal.
Many have called JoePa's dismissal the end of an era. You cannot fathom how inadequate that description is to the events at hand.
You must understand Penn State is a massive extended family. Our family has hundreds of thousands of members. It stretches across years and decades and thousands of miles. We are incredibly broad and diverse, different in so many ways. The one thing that binds us is an undying love of The Pennsylvania State University. And yes part of that is represented in our love and respect for Penn State football.
Understand this, whatever you may think of him right now, Joe Paterno was the patriarch of our family. He was quite literally the physical embodiment of this place we hold so sacred. His termination represents a spiritual death to our family, to our school, and to our beliefs. For that we mourn.
We mourn for the man we knew, and we mourn in fear of the man we may not have known.
We mourn for the destruction of a great man and that man’s reputation. We mourn the systematic annihilation of six decades of our history.
And we mourn our fear that perhaps the great man was not so great after all. At least not when it mattered the most.
Do not interpret our grief as an endorsement of his action or lack thereof. We all understand that gravity of this situation. I have opinions on Paterno’s culpability but I’m unwilling to share them. For one thing I don’t trust my feelings and convictions. I’m not sure I can see clearly through my emotions or bias. For another, I quite literally dread the next development that might make things worse.
Part of me cannot fathom that 60 plus years of dedicated service to one university is being wiped away. That’s 60 plus years, a lifetime of coaching, teaching, and mentoring young men. Some coaches are associated with a school or program. Joe Paterno literally is Penn State football. He is the universal constant for every Penn Stater past and present.
The other part of me cannot fathom that he may have played some role, however peripheral in these horrific crimes. He neither perpetrated nor witnesses these acts. And to whatever extent he enabled them he was not alone. It does not matter. Anyone involved in this appalling tragedy must be held accountable.
In my perfect world a man with a six decade track record of excellence would have been given the benefit of the doubt. We would have allowed for due process, for ALL of the facts to be known before such drastic action was taken.
Alas that was not realistic. I knew by Tuesday that JoePa would never coach another game. This scandal became too big, too fast. His position became untenable as did so many others. I knew this with absolute certainty.
And still I cried when the announcement was made. The raw emotion of the moment was more powerful than I ever expected. Even now I can’t grasp the non-stop “Paterno fired” headline that’s living in perpetuity on cable TV.
Jerry Sandusky is the ultimate bad guy here. Everyone who suffers for this does so ultimately because of him. Others made bad decisions, horrible perhaps but he and only he committed these heinous crimes. I will never back off of that belief.
That does not absolve the actions of our leaders. We entrusted them with something we hold sacred and they betrayed that trust. Their actions and decisions have brought shame to the entire Penn State community. Any and all who were involved must pay with nothing less than their jobs. If that includes Joe Paterno then so be it.
It’s just so hard to believe.
Let me be clear on this point, we are NOT the victims here. The kids that Sandusky abused AND ONLY those kids deserve your thoughts, sympathy and prayers. The entire Penn State community however is collateral damage.
The damage to the university is incalculable; as is the pain and sadness felt by its students and alumni. We’ve been stripped of our dignity, turned in to a nationwide object of scorn and ridicule. Hundreds of thousands are suffering because of the heinous actions of one man, and the subsequent action or inaction of several others.
We suffer twice, once for the kids and once for our school. And we suffer in silence. Nobody wants to hear our pain. Our betrayal pales in comparison to the betrayal of those kids, and we all know it. If we suffer out loud we are called apologists, enablers, or worse. We are not any of those things; just hurt, confused, and profoundly sad.
We cannot defend the indefensible; nor have we tried. It is stunning how many lives have been negatively affected by the actions of one deeply disturbed human being.
I don’t know that we will ever fully come to grips with that. And frankly we're not ready to do so. Right now we are dealing with profound changes to our reality; a reality we've taken as a given our entire lives.
It’s ironic that so many of us were calling for Paterno’s retirement before this happened. There was endless debate as to whether he stayed too long. Many felt, in spite of all he had done, that it was time for the Paterno era to end.
None of us wanted it to end like this.
Monday, November 7, 2011
The End of the Innocence in Happy Valley
Ask me what were the best years of my life, at least to the point where my beloved wife walked down the aisle at our wedding and I will answer without a moment’s hesitation. The four years I spent at the Pennsylvania State University.
It may sound like a cliché to call college the best years of my life but I don’t care. It was. That’s no slight to any other part of my childhood. It’s simply in deference to how much I enjoyed those four years in the place we affectionately call Happy Valley.
College is first and foremost about education but it’s so much more than that. It’s about growing up, establishing your independence and discovering who you really are as a person. It’s about having the freedom to believe unequivocally in your dreams and ideals, before such ideals are stripped from you by the harsh realities of life. It’s about the stunning metamorphosis from child to adult.
To me there was no better place for this than Happy Valley.
When I left Penn State I did so with more than a diploma. I left with a lifetime supply of experiences, memories and friends. I left with an emotional attachment that defies simple description. In those four years the University and everything it represents became more than just my Alma mater. It became part of my heart and my soul. Penn State does not define me, but it’s absolutely part of my identity. One need only inventory my clothing to understand that.
That is why I was so determined to bring my wife there last summer; cost and time commitment be damned. I wanted her to see at least once, what was so critically important to me.
To me, it was the last innocent place on earth; untouched by the noise, traffic, politics, or corruption of life. And right now that innocence is shattered, irrevocably I fear.
I never defined my Penn State experience by our football team; or by our legendary coach Joe Paterno. That was a part of it; one of many to be sure. At the same time, as I got further and further from my college years, in time and distance the football team and Paterno were the most tangible symbols I could cling to. And whether we like it or not, that team and that coach represent and define us nationally.
For as long as I can remember, that was something to be truly proud of. Sadly I doubt that will ever be the case again.
What transpired at Penn State in the last 72 hours to 13 years is a tragedy of unspeakable proportions. It involves (allegedly) a sick sexual deviant who for reasons only he can explain performed repeated acts that would disgust any sane person. It likely involves to some degree a cover up and thus the enabling of these horrific acts. Exactly how deep that cover up goes and who is ultimately involved is beyond the scope of my knowledge. And for purposes of this blog, it’s irrelevant.
Those who are responsible will pay; at minimum with their jobs, at maximum with their freedom. Jerry Sandusky will likely spend the rest of his life as a guest of the state of Pennsylvania. That is the minimum he deserves for the lives he has (allegedly) ruined. And in the end, that’s going to be a long list.
The list will include countless young men; likely far more than is reported and far more than we will ever know. It will include university personnel who dedicated significant portions of their lives to the betterment of the school. It involves Mike McQueary who undoubtedly wanted no part of this. And it very well may include the legendary coach who devoted 60 plus years of his life to that school; 60 plus years to coaching and mentoring young men.
For that I will very much mourn. In the end, Joe Paterno’s legacy may die at the hands of a man he trusted for over 30 years. It will not matter that he was neither the perpetrator of nor witness to these horrific events. He will be viewed as an enabler ostensibly because he was deemed to have not done enough to prevent it.
I hope and pray that is not the case. Not out of some misguided sense of loyalty to Paterno or Penn State mind you. I hope this because I simply do not want to believe a man who did so much good, a man who is literally the embodiment of Penn State University was in any way responsible for this.
Sadly with each passing news story my doubts grow stronger.
A lot will happen in the next few weeks, months, and years. I don’t think any of us can even begin to imagine the breadth of it. A University and its football program that has operated with unparalleled consistency for 45 some years will likely be torn apart brick by brick and rebuilt from scratch. It’s the only thing that can be done.
This is about more than that though. This is about the death of something I hold precious and dear in my heart. This is in some ways the death of a part of me. Call that over dramatization or extreme hyperbole if you like but it’s my truth. I doubt I’m alone amongst Penn State alumni.
This is a place that I love, my Alma mater; an institution that is rightfully an immense source of pride in my life. And it has suddenly become an object of nationwide scorn and ridicule. It’s about a school that has done so much for so many for so long being painted with a broad brush because of the heinous actions of a select few.
It’s about the words “for the glory of old state,” which have always meant so much to me now being used as a punch line.
And yes to some very small degree it’s about football. Understand that is the least important thing in this tragedy. At the same time it’s something that connects tens of thousands of alumni over five decades. I’ve always taken Penn State’s football history as a given. More than that, I took its future as a given. Now I’m not sure there is a future. I'm not sure I can even watch the Nebraska game this Saturday.
I would hope even the most cynical observers can understand how painful this is to us as alumni. So much so that I cannot read the endless barrage of news stories or even draft this blog without a tear in my eyes. I’m overwhelmed with so many conflicting emotions. And worst of all, I honestly don’t trust my own instincts and convictions to evaluate what's happening.
Like most PSU alums, I’m going through the four stages of grief on this. Right now I’m on the back edge of stage one, denial, at least in regards to JoePa. I want so much to believe he’s not the bad guy in this. I want to believe I will wake up tomorrow and find this was all just an awful nightmare.
The second stage is supposed to be anger but I fear that I’ll hit depression first. I’m not a trained psychologist so I honestly don’t know if you are required to hit these stages in order. I just know how I feel. I don’t foresee acceptance and hope in the near future, not on this issue.
I understand that some might read this and infer a lack of perspective on my part. I assure you this is not the case. I understand with absolute certainty here that the greatest victims are these children. And I can assure you my sadness and grief mirrors the magnitude of the event. Life offers far greater tragedies than the spiritual death of a university and the reputation of its football coach. Trust me I understand this.
That does not diminish my sadness today. Nowhere is it written that we cannot mourn a loss, simply because there are other losses of greater magnitude. Loss is loss, hurt is hurt. I can fully appreciate the gravity of Sandusky’s alleged offenses while mourning the collateral damage to my beloved Alma mater. Such emotions are not mutually exclusive.
The last 72 hours have been awful. I doubt the next few weeks, months, or even years will be much better. Honestly I don’t know what will transpire, but I know what has so far. It’s the end of the innocence in Happy Valley. Perhaps the end of my innocence as well
It may sound like a cliché to call college the best years of my life but I don’t care. It was. That’s no slight to any other part of my childhood. It’s simply in deference to how much I enjoyed those four years in the place we affectionately call Happy Valley.
College is first and foremost about education but it’s so much more than that. It’s about growing up, establishing your independence and discovering who you really are as a person. It’s about having the freedom to believe unequivocally in your dreams and ideals, before such ideals are stripped from you by the harsh realities of life. It’s about the stunning metamorphosis from child to adult.
To me there was no better place for this than Happy Valley.
When I left Penn State I did so with more than a diploma. I left with a lifetime supply of experiences, memories and friends. I left with an emotional attachment that defies simple description. In those four years the University and everything it represents became more than just my Alma mater. It became part of my heart and my soul. Penn State does not define me, but it’s absolutely part of my identity. One need only inventory my clothing to understand that.
That is why I was so determined to bring my wife there last summer; cost and time commitment be damned. I wanted her to see at least once, what was so critically important to me.
To me, it was the last innocent place on earth; untouched by the noise, traffic, politics, or corruption of life. And right now that innocence is shattered, irrevocably I fear.
I never defined my Penn State experience by our football team; or by our legendary coach Joe Paterno. That was a part of it; one of many to be sure. At the same time, as I got further and further from my college years, in time and distance the football team and Paterno were the most tangible symbols I could cling to. And whether we like it or not, that team and that coach represent and define us nationally.
For as long as I can remember, that was something to be truly proud of. Sadly I doubt that will ever be the case again.
What transpired at Penn State in the last 72 hours to 13 years is a tragedy of unspeakable proportions. It involves (allegedly) a sick sexual deviant who for reasons only he can explain performed repeated acts that would disgust any sane person. It likely involves to some degree a cover up and thus the enabling of these horrific acts. Exactly how deep that cover up goes and who is ultimately involved is beyond the scope of my knowledge. And for purposes of this blog, it’s irrelevant.
Those who are responsible will pay; at minimum with their jobs, at maximum with their freedom. Jerry Sandusky will likely spend the rest of his life as a guest of the state of Pennsylvania. That is the minimum he deserves for the lives he has (allegedly) ruined. And in the end, that’s going to be a long list.
The list will include countless young men; likely far more than is reported and far more than we will ever know. It will include university personnel who dedicated significant portions of their lives to the betterment of the school. It involves Mike McQueary who undoubtedly wanted no part of this. And it very well may include the legendary coach who devoted 60 plus years of his life to that school; 60 plus years to coaching and mentoring young men.
For that I will very much mourn. In the end, Joe Paterno’s legacy may die at the hands of a man he trusted for over 30 years. It will not matter that he was neither the perpetrator of nor witness to these horrific events. He will be viewed as an enabler ostensibly because he was deemed to have not done enough to prevent it.
I hope and pray that is not the case. Not out of some misguided sense of loyalty to Paterno or Penn State mind you. I hope this because I simply do not want to believe a man who did so much good, a man who is literally the embodiment of Penn State University was in any way responsible for this.
Sadly with each passing news story my doubts grow stronger.
A lot will happen in the next few weeks, months, and years. I don’t think any of us can even begin to imagine the breadth of it. A University and its football program that has operated with unparalleled consistency for 45 some years will likely be torn apart brick by brick and rebuilt from scratch. It’s the only thing that can be done.
This is about more than that though. This is about the death of something I hold precious and dear in my heart. This is in some ways the death of a part of me. Call that over dramatization or extreme hyperbole if you like but it’s my truth. I doubt I’m alone amongst Penn State alumni.
This is a place that I love, my Alma mater; an institution that is rightfully an immense source of pride in my life. And it has suddenly become an object of nationwide scorn and ridicule. It’s about a school that has done so much for so many for so long being painted with a broad brush because of the heinous actions of a select few.
It’s about the words “for the glory of old state,” which have always meant so much to me now being used as a punch line.
And yes to some very small degree it’s about football. Understand that is the least important thing in this tragedy. At the same time it’s something that connects tens of thousands of alumni over five decades. I’ve always taken Penn State’s football history as a given. More than that, I took its future as a given. Now I’m not sure there is a future. I'm not sure I can even watch the Nebraska game this Saturday.
I would hope even the most cynical observers can understand how painful this is to us as alumni. So much so that I cannot read the endless barrage of news stories or even draft this blog without a tear in my eyes. I’m overwhelmed with so many conflicting emotions. And worst of all, I honestly don’t trust my own instincts and convictions to evaluate what's happening.
Like most PSU alums, I’m going through the four stages of grief on this. Right now I’m on the back edge of stage one, denial, at least in regards to JoePa. I want so much to believe he’s not the bad guy in this. I want to believe I will wake up tomorrow and find this was all just an awful nightmare.
The second stage is supposed to be anger but I fear that I’ll hit depression first. I’m not a trained psychologist so I honestly don’t know if you are required to hit these stages in order. I just know how I feel. I don’t foresee acceptance and hope in the near future, not on this issue.
I understand that some might read this and infer a lack of perspective on my part. I assure you this is not the case. I understand with absolute certainty here that the greatest victims are these children. And I can assure you my sadness and grief mirrors the magnitude of the event. Life offers far greater tragedies than the spiritual death of a university and the reputation of its football coach. Trust me I understand this.
That does not diminish my sadness today. Nowhere is it written that we cannot mourn a loss, simply because there are other losses of greater magnitude. Loss is loss, hurt is hurt. I can fully appreciate the gravity of Sandusky’s alleged offenses while mourning the collateral damage to my beloved Alma mater. Such emotions are not mutually exclusive.
The last 72 hours have been awful. I doubt the next few weeks, months, or even years will be much better. Honestly I don’t know what will transpire, but I know what has so far. It’s the end of the innocence in Happy Valley. Perhaps the end of my innocence as well
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Why I hate the Ravens...
Hate is a strong word, one I use with much trepidation in any situation. With that preface I say this without any doubt, I hate the Baltimore Ravens.
In other news, the sun came up in this morning.
Which is to say that my hatred for the Ravens ranks fairly high on the obvious meter. It correlates somewhere along the lines of The Tea Party and Barrack Obama’s domestic policies.
And without getting too much in to mathematic proofs here (unless Weet requires it), there is a somewhat geometric concept in play here; i.e. as long as the sun continues to come up, I will continue to hate the Baltimore Ravens. I would wager a fair some of money that most of the Steeler Nation feels pretty much the same way.
My disdain for the Ravens has grown consistently since the Rat Birds somehow won the Super Bowl in 2000 and reached its apex on Sunday September 11, 2011. I thought I hated the Ravens before my wife and I endured three hours of grotesque personal abuse at M&T Bank Stadium. Now I can say (for both of us), I truly despise them.
On the field the Ravens pounded and embarrassed the Steelers that day. It was in every way shape and form one of the ugliest Steeler losses I can remember, the magnitude increased given the opponent.
One could argue we should not care. After all, what is one regular season loss compared to the litany of crucial victories the Steelers have pulled off in this series? What is one regular season loss compared to three times knocking Baltimore from the playoffs; twice on the way to the Super Bowl? What’s one regular season loss compared to watching Ray Lewis go from screaming and strutting in the pregame to slumping off the field in defeat?
Logically, it’s nothing.
Alas recency bias is an exceptionally powerful force in sports, even more so when you endure three hours of emotional debauchery in the stands. For the record, I’ve attended Steeler and Penguin road games in eight different cities; always clad in black and gold, and NEVER, I repeat NEVER, encountered fan behavior half as vile a what Emily and I endured in Baltimore.
Did I expect it to be a tough environment? Of course. Did I expect a purported adult human being to repeatedly scream the f word right in my face because I was wearing black and gold? Honestly no. And that was the high point of the Raven’s crowd.
I’m a bit ashamed to admit that both Emily and I changed out of our Steeler gear before boarding public transportation outside the stadium. Honestly, and I’m not exaggerating this, we did it out of fear for our safety. Some would call this an intelligent decision and no big deal. To me, it’s akin to Charlton Heston’s famous proclamation that “Bill Clinton can have my gun when he rips it from my cold dead hand.”
It was that ugly boys and girls. And yes I’m angry.
It takes zero additional incentive for me to get amped for the Ravens mind you; but I’ll have plenty in reserve. I’ve always felt it enough for the Black and Gold to beat Baltimore. On Sunday I’m hoping for a “scrape Joe Flacco of the turf” style humiliation.
I’m expecting that the Steelers feel the same way.
Under ordinary circumstances I would fear a letdown this weekend. It’s perfectly understandable coming off the Steelers first victory over Tom Brady in seven years. If this week’s opponent were Kansas City, San Francisco or even the surprising Bungles, I would be genuinely concerned.
Given the Steelers rivalry with Baltimore; combined with what happened eight weeks ago, I see little reason to fear. I’m especially comforted when Mike Tomlin starts his press conference with “Its Ravens week.”
It’s a fascinating comparison, the Steelers’ rivalries with Baltimore versus New England. There is a visceral hatred that exists between the Steelers and the Rat Birds. In contrast, with New England it’s more about knocking those arrogant SOBs down a peg or two. The irony is that New England is the only team in the NFL that forces the Steelers to abandon their identity to beat them. In contrast, the Ravens amplify it.
Go figure the Black and Gold seem to own Baltimore while struggling to beat New England. The Ravens, by virtue of their Steeler like approach to football, are the perfect opponent for Pittsburgh. Simply put, you can’t out Steeler the Steelers. The Ravens like it tough and ugly. The Steelers have always been tougher and uglier…in a beautiful way of course.
With the notable exception of eight weeks ago. I’m still perplexed as to what happened that day. To be that flat against their hated rival; in the most hatred fill rivalry in all of professional sports was simply inexcusable.
I’m confident that the players and their coaches are well aware of that; and have not forgotten.
Which is to say that the Steelers; a team that rarely lacks in motivation, heart, or determination, should have a surplus of all on Sunday night. This is not just about one critical win in the standings, it’s about organization pride. This is about saying that nobody slaps around the Pittsburgh Steelers and gets away with it. NOBODY! Least of all the Baltimore Ravens.
The Steelers were as focused and motivated as I’ve ever seen them against the Brady bunch last Sunday. They should be even more so this week.
Notwithstanding the emotional element (which I ‘m clearly struggling to avoid) this is bar none biggest game of the season. As much as I hate the Ravens, they have to be considered a dangerous opponent. It’s hard to conceive of them losing more than two games other than the Steeler game. A Steeler win opens up a legitimate path to another division title. A Ravens all but assures the arduous wild card route for the Black and Gold.
That’s not an impossible mission mind you. We’ve seen both for better and for worse since 2005 that a wild card team can win the Super Bowl. All things being equal however, I’ll take my chances with home field advantage and a first round bye. There is an excellent chance of a Steelers/Ravens playoff battle in January and we’ve seen home field advantage be a crucial factor in both match-ups.
To that end, the circumstances are frighteningly similar to last year. The Steelers put themselves in a must win position by losing to Baltimore at home in week 4. That set-up a must win rematch; one the Steelers ultimately pulled out in brilliantly ugly fashion. The Ravens controlled most of the game only to follow the age old script of a critical Flacco turnover, converted to a score by Raven killer Troy Polamalu.
It was classic Steelers/Ravens in every detail, right down to the final result.
One could argue that Baltimore is the perfect rival for the Steelers; a team that brings out the best in the Black and Gold yet always falls short when it matters most. And on some level, buried deep within my subconscious, I have a begrudging respect for the Rat Birds on field success. Such thoughts however are blinded by the raw emotion inspired by this rivalry; especially given what transpired eight weeks ago. In short, my brain may respect the Ravens success; my heart hates them too much to listen or care.
Logically I know that victory, by any means and any score is what matters here. Emotionally I want more, something along the lines of ground Raven paste. When the Ravens confront you they are the enemy…and the enemy deserves no mercy. Or something like that from what I recall.
Victory is all that matters, but for once victory alone is not enough.
HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO !!!
In other news, the sun came up in this morning.
Which is to say that my hatred for the Ravens ranks fairly high on the obvious meter. It correlates somewhere along the lines of The Tea Party and Barrack Obama’s domestic policies.
And without getting too much in to mathematic proofs here (unless Weet requires it), there is a somewhat geometric concept in play here; i.e. as long as the sun continues to come up, I will continue to hate the Baltimore Ravens. I would wager a fair some of money that most of the Steeler Nation feels pretty much the same way.
My disdain for the Ravens has grown consistently since the Rat Birds somehow won the Super Bowl in 2000 and reached its apex on Sunday September 11, 2011. I thought I hated the Ravens before my wife and I endured three hours of grotesque personal abuse at M&T Bank Stadium. Now I can say (for both of us), I truly despise them.
On the field the Ravens pounded and embarrassed the Steelers that day. It was in every way shape and form one of the ugliest Steeler losses I can remember, the magnitude increased given the opponent.
One could argue we should not care. After all, what is one regular season loss compared to the litany of crucial victories the Steelers have pulled off in this series? What is one regular season loss compared to three times knocking Baltimore from the playoffs; twice on the way to the Super Bowl? What’s one regular season loss compared to watching Ray Lewis go from screaming and strutting in the pregame to slumping off the field in defeat?
Logically, it’s nothing.
Alas recency bias is an exceptionally powerful force in sports, even more so when you endure three hours of emotional debauchery in the stands. For the record, I’ve attended Steeler and Penguin road games in eight different cities; always clad in black and gold, and NEVER, I repeat NEVER, encountered fan behavior half as vile a what Emily and I endured in Baltimore.
Did I expect it to be a tough environment? Of course. Did I expect a purported adult human being to repeatedly scream the f word right in my face because I was wearing black and gold? Honestly no. And that was the high point of the Raven’s crowd.
I’m a bit ashamed to admit that both Emily and I changed out of our Steeler gear before boarding public transportation outside the stadium. Honestly, and I’m not exaggerating this, we did it out of fear for our safety. Some would call this an intelligent decision and no big deal. To me, it’s akin to Charlton Heston’s famous proclamation that “Bill Clinton can have my gun when he rips it from my cold dead hand.”
It was that ugly boys and girls. And yes I’m angry.
It takes zero additional incentive for me to get amped for the Ravens mind you; but I’ll have plenty in reserve. I’ve always felt it enough for the Black and Gold to beat Baltimore. On Sunday I’m hoping for a “scrape Joe Flacco of the turf” style humiliation.
I’m expecting that the Steelers feel the same way.
Under ordinary circumstances I would fear a letdown this weekend. It’s perfectly understandable coming off the Steelers first victory over Tom Brady in seven years. If this week’s opponent were Kansas City, San Francisco or even the surprising Bungles, I would be genuinely concerned.
Given the Steelers rivalry with Baltimore; combined with what happened eight weeks ago, I see little reason to fear. I’m especially comforted when Mike Tomlin starts his press conference with “Its Ravens week.”
It’s a fascinating comparison, the Steelers’ rivalries with Baltimore versus New England. There is a visceral hatred that exists between the Steelers and the Rat Birds. In contrast, with New England it’s more about knocking those arrogant SOBs down a peg or two. The irony is that New England is the only team in the NFL that forces the Steelers to abandon their identity to beat them. In contrast, the Ravens amplify it.
Go figure the Black and Gold seem to own Baltimore while struggling to beat New England. The Ravens, by virtue of their Steeler like approach to football, are the perfect opponent for Pittsburgh. Simply put, you can’t out Steeler the Steelers. The Ravens like it tough and ugly. The Steelers have always been tougher and uglier…in a beautiful way of course.
With the notable exception of eight weeks ago. I’m still perplexed as to what happened that day. To be that flat against their hated rival; in the most hatred fill rivalry in all of professional sports was simply inexcusable.
I’m confident that the players and their coaches are well aware of that; and have not forgotten.
Which is to say that the Steelers; a team that rarely lacks in motivation, heart, or determination, should have a surplus of all on Sunday night. This is not just about one critical win in the standings, it’s about organization pride. This is about saying that nobody slaps around the Pittsburgh Steelers and gets away with it. NOBODY! Least of all the Baltimore Ravens.
The Steelers were as focused and motivated as I’ve ever seen them against the Brady bunch last Sunday. They should be even more so this week.
Notwithstanding the emotional element (which I ‘m clearly struggling to avoid) this is bar none biggest game of the season. As much as I hate the Ravens, they have to be considered a dangerous opponent. It’s hard to conceive of them losing more than two games other than the Steeler game. A Steeler win opens up a legitimate path to another division title. A Ravens all but assures the arduous wild card route for the Black and Gold.
That’s not an impossible mission mind you. We’ve seen both for better and for worse since 2005 that a wild card team can win the Super Bowl. All things being equal however, I’ll take my chances with home field advantage and a first round bye. There is an excellent chance of a Steelers/Ravens playoff battle in January and we’ve seen home field advantage be a crucial factor in both match-ups.
To that end, the circumstances are frighteningly similar to last year. The Steelers put themselves in a must win position by losing to Baltimore at home in week 4. That set-up a must win rematch; one the Steelers ultimately pulled out in brilliantly ugly fashion. The Ravens controlled most of the game only to follow the age old script of a critical Flacco turnover, converted to a score by Raven killer Troy Polamalu.
It was classic Steelers/Ravens in every detail, right down to the final result.
One could argue that Baltimore is the perfect rival for the Steelers; a team that brings out the best in the Black and Gold yet always falls short when it matters most. And on some level, buried deep within my subconscious, I have a begrudging respect for the Rat Birds on field success. Such thoughts however are blinded by the raw emotion inspired by this rivalry; especially given what transpired eight weeks ago. In short, my brain may respect the Ravens success; my heart hates them too much to listen or care.
Logically I know that victory, by any means and any score is what matters here. Emotionally I want more, something along the lines of ground Raven paste. When the Ravens confront you they are the enemy…and the enemy deserves no mercy. Or something like that from what I recall.
Victory is all that matters, but for once victory alone is not enough.
HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO !!!
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