I lived in Pittsburgh, PA for 7 years, marveling at the hold the Steelers had (and continue to have) on that entire Western Pennsylvania culture. If you want to have a conversation with another person in that part of the world, you'd better be able to speak football--at least a little bit. Passion was defined by your proximity to the game--whether it was a High School Friday Night rivalry, a college noon-day kick-off, or a Sunday afternoon game with the NFL. And make no mistake about it--whether it's a good season or a throw-away record, when the Steelers lose, the entire town plunges into depression on Monday morning. The grey sky that shields the sun for months at a time doesn't help the mood.
I do love football, as well as many other sports that distract us from the realities of everyday life that are not so pretty to watch. So when those everyday realities collide with our escapism, the mix is really distressing. How can I watch Penn State play football without this awful association now? How do I enjoy all of the blue and white and the pride it stirs within, without the association that those who have been paid to represent those color combinations have really betrayed so many people, whether out of naivete or simple fear of the consequences? The ties we have to football, and especially to college football, run much deeper than they probably should. Just like our professional athletes, these public figures have thrust upon them expectations of behavior that are, quite frankly, unfair--unfair only because they are expectations that negate the possibility of human error. But as my wife always says, "perception is reality", and so whether the expectations are deserved or not, they become reality. And that's what makes the pain so much more real--not only that these things were committed by such public figures, but that they all had direct associations with our university, and with our football team.
I have to say that another feeling that accompanies this for me, is that of being alone--if you count being alone with 40,000 within a student body and with nearly 600,000 living alumni. Unless this was your school, it doesn't have the same association. While I don't know who wrote it, this letter shows real class from a similar school that went through recent scandal of a very different kind. In a way that only exists through playful rivalry, I have a new respect for Ohio State after reading this letter of commiseration.
Ultimately, it's only football, and it is just a game. But the players in that game--and in the University settings which can offer so much and take away just as much--they are people who strive for their best and who can fall down just as hard. While nothing has come to trial yet, the pain that is yet to be experienced seems inevitable. I pray for Jerry Sandusky and his illness--inhuman though it seems--a problem that plagues our society in ways we cannot truly know, because so much of the crime is so screamingly silent. Maybe the the public nature of this scandal will remind us of the deep, deep pain that is spread by pedophilia and sexual predation. I'll pray for Joe Paterno, Graham Spanier, Tim Curley and Gary Schultz, among others who have probably acted out of panic and fear, hoping that such a horrible situation might just go away. It never goes away--especially for the victims, as well as for those who have lied to themselves about the crimes they have committed. I'll pray for the families and the abused, who will never have the opportunity to live the lives they led before they were abused, and who must face their own memories each moment. These things are not easily remedied.
And I hope that, somehow, my school will recover and learn from the revelation that has come in to the light. Just as it is within the imperfect body called the Church, we do not cease to be Penn State--we still are. . .warts and all. We just might not be cheering quite so loudly for awhile.
