Sure, by the time I got the beat I was in my early 30s and already knew that the iconic Penn State coach was not perfect. Like Santa Claus, there is no such man. But it came as a mild surprise, after spending my first social moments with Paterno, to learn that he was as flawed as anyone.
They say you should never meet your heroes, but that would be denying yourself the opportunity to learn a valuable lesson: Life is neither black nor white, and larger-than-life figures are nothing more than flesh and blood.
The scandal at Penn State is a tragedy not because Paterno was removed as coach Wednesday night by the board of trustees or because his legacy will forever be tainted. It is a tragedy, first and foremost, because innocent children allegedly were victims of sexual abuse by Jerry Sandusky.
And it is a tragedy because the deification of Paterno perhaps permitted these crimes to continue when they might have been stopped nearly a decade ago.
The St. Joe myth, while steeped in fact, was propagated for years by writers who fell under Paterno's spell. Yes, this was a public man who was often above the fray and stood by his morals. But that did not necessarily mean he was a great guy.
Those who painted a balanced picture, gray hairs and all, were shunned and often marginalized. Paterno, after all, won all those games and two national championships without violating an NCAA rule. But in the process, the man became untouchable, and his power grew.
If you grew up in Philadelphia in the 1980s and you loved football, there was only one college team to follow: Penn State. By 1982, the Eagles were starting to decline, and Paterno's teams finally were starting to win national titles.
