I don't know where I am!
Now, I shouldn’t have to say this, but people are stupid: In no way is this a defense of Jerry Sandusky, or anyone else involved in the Penn State sexual abuse allegations. This opinion refers to Joe Paterno and only Joe Paterno.
This Penn State sexual abuse scandal is really starting to heat up, and amongst all the accusations and blame being thrown around, the institution known as Joe Paterno has been asked to step down from his head coaching job. It’s been stated before, in front of Grand Jury’s, that Paterno heard about one of the incidents in 2002 and he went to his higher ups and made the allegation known. Now, let’s forget that Jerry Sandusky had been accused multiple times before, and that Paterno knew nothing of that. After calling his higher ups and washing his hands of the situation, Paterno went back to coaching football and being a curmudgeon. Fast forward to today, and people are calling for Paterno’s head, as if he was some sort of locker room pimp. They are citing that he didn’t do enough with the knowledge he had, and that he should have contacted authorities, and not Penn State personal.
The defense of Joe Paterno, after the jump.
To them, I have one answer: Joe Paterno is old as shit. In 2002 Paterno was 76. Seventy six years old! Real quick for reference, my grandmother was 76 four years ago. Bless her heart, she is quite the trooper, and today at 80 she reminds us of how beautiful life is. But also, she’s old as shit. So she doesn’t drive her car past two in the afternoon. Is it raining? Or cloudy? She’s not driving at all. She still refers to all Hispanics as Puerto Ricans. I don’t have any proof, but I believe she wears a diaper. My point being: Old people aren’t capable of a lot.
She's smiling because you have to clean her poop
I know I know, there are plenty of old people who are still active, and who live great lives well into their 90’s. Well, my friend, you haven’t seen Joe Paterno lately. Guy looks like he just got the casting call for Leprechaun 5. They don’t even let him stand on the side lines any more, they stuck him up in a booth like a cancer patient in a hospice. “Maybe if we stick him in the back, no one will notice how much he smells.” And while I don’t have proof, I will argue to the death that his breath smells of onions, wet hair, and mayonnaise packets.
There’s a good chance that old man Paterno heard about those allegations, and probably was a little shocked. I bet you planes still scare him. “The metal birds are back!”, he probably shouts at his wife over prunes at 6 in the morning. He then called up his superiors, who calmed his nerves and told Paterno that everything was going to be OK, and they would take care of it. And then he probably shit his pants. Because that’s what old people do.
They both did. Simultaneously.
I’m just saying, when Joe Paterno dies next year, which he will (you have to imagine the football thing is the only thing keeping him going at this point), no one is allowed to celebrate his life, because you are all calling for his heads now. I’ll be the only one allowed to remember him fondly, because I’m the only one who defended him. But I won’t, because I hate Penn State.
GO TEMPLE, WOOOO!