No matter which way you look at it, Wednesday night in Happy Valley was ugly for the Penn State student body.
They lost their school president, their iconic head coach and the reputation of their entire athletics department.
And they didn’t know how to react. The questions the student reporters asked at the press conference with the board of trustees were atrocious.
The students outside were equally lost. Some started rallying around Paterno, some sat outside the stadium and prayed, and still others rioted, overturning a TV news van and forcing police to clear the streets.
And then there were students just there to see what was going on, amazed by the speed at which everything had fallen apart.
The immediate reactions of the student body were purely based on their emotions. Penn State students had just watched their beloved coach be kicked to the curb, and were outraged.
What most failed to realize is that what transpired in Happy Valley was bigger than football, and bigger than Paterno. The rest of the country watched as the student body appeared to ignore the true victims of the situation.
With reports of protests and football players sitting out, it seemed like it was coming to a head at Saturday’s game against Nebraska.
Saturday did not provide Penn State with a desperately craved denouement. Instead, they lost 17-14.
The loss itself was very odd.
For the first time since 1950, the only Paterno on field was Jay, JoePa’s son.
Penn State students who had been looking for someone to blame for the loss of their iconic father figure were subdued. Quiet tears filled the stadium in place of the screams and anger from Wednesday’s news clips.
The reactions of Penn State students, players and coaches were critical.
Beaver Stadium was filled with blue — the color for child-abuse victims.
The prayer beforehand between both teams showed a quiet understanding that the events were bigger than the four quarters they were about to play.
Husker fans, typically rejoicing over a win, were quiet.
Yes, Nebraska won, but no one seemed to notice. The fans in Lincoln that day were more concerned with the reactions of Penn State students and the players leaving the field. Bo Pelini even suggested that the game shouldn’t have been played for a number of reasons saying their primary job of a coach, “is to educate.”
It cemented the fact that this weekend was not about tangible victories but instead coming together. It was about finding out that Penn State is bigger than football. That maybe we are, too.
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