Joe Paterno: Hey, Bobby. How ya feelin’, buddy?

Bowden: Spry! Just chopped some wood, actually. On my way to do some brisk calisthenics and then expand my chest for a while. How’s your leg? Hurting right now? Like the wobbly inflamed knee of a horse just seconds from the glue factory, eh?

Joe Paterno: Nah, but thanks for asking. That’s very kind. It’s feeling good enough to walk around with no problem, actually. Gonna go for a walk to the stadium in a bit, maybe drop in on my son. Who’s still coaching with me. And not fired and sucking at the drained, sagging bosom of my university.

Bowden: I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you, Joe. I’m busy thumbing through these blue-chip propects to call. They’re all so fast, you just wouldn’t believe it, really. And they all want to come here. It’s warm down here, you know. That’s got to be hard on your joints, ain’t it Joe? They have to hurt you soooo in the mow-nin’, right?

Paterno: Nah, but I appreciate the concern, Bobby. Hey, look at me, I’m just talkin’ all over the place here. Just wanted to let you know that I’m real sorry to hear about the NCAA shooting down your appeal to vacate the wins. I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, as would sit fifteen games behind me on the all-time wins list, and that’s with your wins from Samson College throw in there. (giggles)

Bowden: THAT’S SAM-FAHD, you dago sonofabitch! It’s one of the finest academic institutions in Buh-mingham, Alabama!

Paterno: I’m sure they gotta lot of ‘em. I’ll tell ‘em that when I go to my next Brown alumni meeting. Anyway, I gotta get crackin’ here. There’s stuff I gotta do, like take my vitamins, go for a walk, and enjoy the view from 15 wins ahead of you.

Bowden: I hope you trip on your momma’s dick, cripple. WE WILL RISE AGAIN!!!

Paterno: It sounded better when you said it at Gettysburg. You have a nice day, Bobby. Have 15 of them in a row, on me.

Bowden: Why I nevah!– [/click!]

Penn State is having their “PSU Fan Rap Contest,” meaning they want Penn State fans and students to submit their own original compositions honoring Nittany Lion football. If you’ve watched Snowman’s video embedded above, you know that the contest is a foregone conclusion. (Hot finger snappin’ death: he’s got enough to go ’round, h8ers. SNAP. DIE.)

The best two aren’t actually bad. There’s Kake, who tells you he’s a rapper by drinking grape soda on camera, and Intrepid, who has the best balance of being task-focused (raps about PSU and gets the theme) and says of Joe Paterno: “dude’s been in more bowls than a spoon,” which is a cocktail-worthy line in any work. Neither of them snap semi-rhythmically, though, and that’s what’s gonna cost them in the end.

No one has taken advantage of the obvious “Zombie” sample, yet, but we encourage those who would like to do this to go ahead and do it. If you dress up as Joe Paterno and eat people dressed up as Jim Tressel and Patrick Fitzgerald, we’ll throw the full weight of our voting bloc behind your submission. Doubt the electoral power of Mingovia at your own risk, auslander.

(HT: BSD)

We were going to put new Purdue coach Danny Hope in here, who has continued the tradition of wearing a Cuban Soup Filter while coaching the Boilermakers, but we spaced on his name in the Sporcle “How effectively can you demonstrate your inability to properly remember names of Division 1 football coaches?” quiz. Without being a total dick and cheating, we got an 86; for further context, info-bot and acknowledged genius Hinton got a 102, but we blame the differential on us filling those data slots with more important things, like essential lines of dialogue from Buttman’s Wild Goose Chase. Joey Silvera never got enough credit for his fine performance in that work.

GRRRRRRRRYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHBRAAAAAAAAAAAIIIINS

Yes, our thoughts exactly. Jared T. Odrick got into a sidewalk scuffle with some citizens, who then tracked down the Nittany Lion football player by his picture on Penn State’s website. The resulting disorderly conduct charge and one Fulmer Cup point are further proof that Joe Paterno’s decision to smash any computer he sees with a cane to buy a bit more time until the computers become self-aware and eliminate the scourge of humanity forever is a very sound one indeed. You call him a Luddite; he calls himself a freedom fighter for the fleshened ones. History will prove him right.

Florida State will appeal the NCAA ruling in an academic fraud case including the vacating of 14 wins, but should the University lose the appeal Bowden will likely try a new tack. Rather than refuse to honor the NCAA, Florida State will instead lobby for the inclusion of several victories he participated in as a major in the Confederate Army during the Civil War.

Bowden, seen here with Joe Paterno in happier times (i.e., the 1930s)

“Bowden wants that record badly enough to go that far,” said one administration source close to the situation who spoke to the AP anonymously. According to the source, Bowden is compiling documentation to back up claims of a share in at least 22 Confederate military victories, including the engagements of Bull Run (referred to as Manassas in FSU documents,) Fredericksburg, and Fort Sumter.

Under the current ruling, Bowden will lose up to 14 games after Florida State athletes were found to have received unfair academic assistance in a music appreciation class. Bowden plans to offset this by claiming to have overseen key units in battle, an exercise the argument will creatively analogize to coaching a football team.

Experts are skeptical. When reached for comment, Civil War historian and Harvard President Drew Gilpin Faust said: “No.” When pressed for clarification, she repeated: “No.” While historians may be suspicious, NCAA watchers believe the argument could pass for any number of reasons.

“They may approve it in a clerical error, accidentally set fire to the paperwork, or just simply forget about it and stare at a particularly arresting game of Minesweeper for three or four years,” said David Johnson, a longtime NCAA-watcher and public policy professor at the University of North Carolina. “There’s really no telling how they could screw it up, but the one certainty is that they will, and that Bowden will likely get the wins.”

Granting all 22 victories to Bowden would give the coach a nearly insurmountable seven game margin over Penn State coach Joe Paterno. Paterno had no comment on Wednesday, but sources did say if the Florida State petition is granted Paterno could counter by seeking to include victories from not only the Civil War, but also his contributions to the Mexican-American War, the Crimean War, Lord Kitchener’s Sudanese Expedition, the Punic Wars, and his pivotal role in ending the Thirty Years’ War.

A source close to Paterno said “Bowden can bring it on. If he wants to go down that rabbit hole, we will. Joe was at the battle of Marathon, and has the missing eye and scars to prove it. Bowden will lose this game with Joe every time.”

“As I always said, you never underestimate the spirit of a human being,” Quinn said. “A lot of times you look at profile, height, weight and things of that nature. But you can never really see what’s in a kid’s chest, in his heart and what’s between his ears and his smarts.”

Rey Maualuga disagrees. You can see all of that if you hit someones hard enough in the sternum or skull. T.J. Ward also disagrees with your statement, as you can clearly see Zac Robinson’s amygdala fly from his ear on this hit, which we’re posting twice because it gives us a rage-boner like you wouldn’t believe.

Good lord: the Armed Forces Bowl is on. Consider the comments an open thread for the early game today, and please leave work. No one’s getting anything done thinking about the hot sex of Dave Wannstedt appearing on their television in two hours anyway.

Hello, friend! I haven’t dropped you a line in a month ah Sundays! Howza the ah-spaghetti, paisano!

I just fuhst wanted to congratulate you on yah recent contract extension. If you spent money on the good thangs in lahfe–the plantations, the civil wah books, and the 18 part “The Real Vietnam”, you’d undahstand what to do with it instead ah givin’ it back to that leech of an employah you have. What have they evah done fah you, Joe, besides sign a coupla checks? You gotta considah your interests, you gotta considah your interests, that’s all i’m saying.

(Obscured and sloppy scribbling where Bowden fell asleep drooling on the page.)

Whe-yuh was ah? I say, I say, ah just wanted to finally shayuh the secret of my success with youuuu. Ah know as rivals we often play it close to the ve-yust, but ah think aftah yeahs of competition ah can shayuh the key to mah longevity.

In a single wuhd:

CIGARETTES.

Ah’ve been smokin’ um fuh yeahs, and theyuh invigoratin’ flavah and stimulating effect on the mahnd and body have kept me younger than mah peeers for decades now. That little hip problem you have? 16-24 of these a day, and you’ll outlahst me fa sho, son! Affordable, safe, and healthy. Ah wouldn’t lie to ya!

Gonna go on mah daily 28 mile run befo a bit ah recruitin’, Joe. May our Lord and Savyah Jesus Christ look oveh yah, even if you are a disciple of the Whore of Babylon, the Catholic Church. You’re half right, at least.

Three behind ya!

Bobby

P.S. The delicious and healthful cigahhrettes are available at any local gas station or convenience store.

P.P.S. Ah have enclosed a photo of myself from my most recent daguerrotype. I’m definitely ahead of you on the handsome side ah things, if ah do say so mahself!

Photo by Pat Little, AP.

They should keep swinging until teeth fly from skulls, and then continue kicking ribs until the whistle blows.*

They should follow this pattern in the rest of their games because The Big Ten is playing several hands down in any national title contention because of the twin pillars of lack of a title game and Ohio State’s FAILboat Party** in the last two national title games…not to mention a crucial point Michael makes abundantly clear hyah:

With that caveat out of the way, the Big Ten and Pac Ten need to be punished for being the primary roadblocks against a plus-one playoff. Those two conferences will change their minds when there is sufficient pressure from their member institutions to do so. An unbeaten Penn State team sitting on the sidelines in January while Texas and Alabama duke it out for the national title would be exactly the tonic to cause the stodgy Big Ten to stop opposing evolution.

The Doomsday Scenarios are not limited to the aluminum headgear-wearers of our beloved blogosphere: Tony Barnhart outlined the same scenario this morning in the AJC.

1. Penn State gets left out: No. 1 Texas and No. 2 Alabama both finish 13-0 and win their respective conference championship games. Like Auburn in 2004, a 12-0 Penn State, which has not played a game since Nov. 22, finishes No. 3 because it played a weaker schedule. Joe Paterno, 81, is denied the chance to end his career with a national championship game. Big Ten commissioner Jim Delany, one of the strongest opponents to a four-team playoff, gets an earful from Paterno.

It could happen (then again, as Barnhart points out, so could every other scenario,) meaning the only recourse Penn State has any control over whatsoever is points, points, points, which have to happen frequently and without mercy for the remainder of the season. Ohio State could upset them straight-up, and will likely hold them under twenty (since your oft-repeated stat of the week is the “ten point max” that Penn State has scored at the ‘Shoe historically.)

Indiana, Iowa, and Michigan State best look into burn clinics, though; JoePa’s coming with a flamethrower-equipped Rascal in the best senior citizen revenge film this side of Death Wish 3 if Alabama and Texas go undefeated. With no conference championship to buffer the schedule, laying waste to their opponents is all Penn State has left to make their argument.

(P.S. Fuck Jim Delany in the ear. Again.)

*Thank you, Matt and Trey, for having us now imagining Butters yelling “Fuck ‘em up!” during every blowout from now on.

**Cartman is Ohio State. There’s little doubt of this: loud, powerful, profane, and ultimately slow in the clutch. Also: both are associated with shitting in inappropriate places.

Joe Paterno is dying in front of our eyes, and that is no overly dramatic statement. His body is beginning the inevitable decline he staved off for so many year by running, staying involved in his job, and leaning on the good credit his robust genes advanced him in his later years. This is not a sentimental judgment: it’s fact, as clear to the viewer as the cane he now requires to get from point A to point B or as obvious as his absence from the sidelines when he takes to the booth in the second half of games due to hip pain.

Brent Musberger may be annoying, predictable, and prone to over-excitement on the smallest play, but give him due credit for honesty in discussing the factors motivating Paterno’s insistence on remaining on the sideline.

He is fearful — and he looks back at Bear Bryant as the example — he is fearful that he would not be with us if he stepped away. He is a man that doesn’t fish, doesn’t play golf…he has no other interest other than his family and football. And he’s just afraid what would happen with the rest of his life if he walks away from it.

“What would happen” here is cloaked language for what happened to Bryant: death. If you feel a vague unease at all this, at watching Paterno slowly deteriorate physically, it should be a familiar creep: it is the same sensation the smell of hospital disinfectant gives us, since everyone we’ve ever known kicked off in the perpetually swabbed and sterile corners of a hospital. It’s the primate fear associated with anything reminding you of your own demise.

In the pilot of Six Feet Under, there’s a debate about how death is dealt with in America: that it is too sterile, too impersonal, too well-packaged to properly recognize the moment. Nate insists his father’s burial should be a more personal, emotional farewell than the standard packaged, gift-wrapped costume dramas they sell; David, the other brother, objects, but ultimately relents at the graveside.

We’re more on Nate’s side, as annoying as the character was, but would like to take it a step further: the unease surrounding Paterno is part of an overall gerontophobia, a fear of the old rooted in the fact that some deep, primal part of your brain recognizes that if you’re lucky, you’ll be tottering along in slip-ons and a robe at the end of the driveway as part of a four-minute ordeal just to get the mail. Many of you are scared of old people because they’re “creepy,” which we take to mean “close to death, and therefore death-y, and therefore ‘creepy.’

To be fair, some old people may scare you for legitimate reasons. Many in our part of the nation have both guns and cataracts, a great combination resulting in festive fun for the whole family. (”Don’t go over in the yard to get the ball, kid. That’s how people die.”) They do tend to be stubborn, they do remind you of death because they’re so much closer (by the odds, at least) than you are, and they do have a statistically significant propensity for causing horrific traffic accidents.

However, Joe Paterno, as morbid as it may seem, may be living the dream: he’s choosing both how to live, and potentially how to die. Most of our friends, when asked “how would you like to go,” usually choose the Willie Nelson route of “being shot climbing out of a woman’s window at 135 years old.” The more common answer, however, would be “doing what I do,” which in JoePa’s case is to die coaching football.

This may seem creepy, but the fault would not be on Paterno, who being a Classicist by education seems Stoic in his approach toward death. Musburger may have been plying inside information, but he may have also ignored another, more positive angle on this: Paterno’s fear of no longer being able to do what he loves, not what would happen if he stopped doing it. The fault is in the viewer, so insulated from aging and death that the sight of it in any real form obscures the fact that Paterno, in the form he’s chosen, is doing his job as well as anyone in the country right now…and happens to be very, very old.

This seems less like a man worried about death, and more worried about how he’s going to get through the rest of life in spite of the pain his body is experiencing–an Epicurean in the purest sense of the word to the end, and the current coach of the number three team in the nation. Let him live how he chooses. Whether anyone likes it or not, death will take care of the rest. The rest is useless worry, and a waste of precious life with the clock winding down.

We hate split offensive play-calling systems. Despise them. Loathe them. Think they should be thrown into the flames with our old high school yearbooks and that collarless button-down we misguidedly purchased in 1994. (”Dude, it’s like a dai-shiki you can tuck in. Exotic, but still formal.”)

This likely comes from watching the [REDACTED]/Fedora/Locksley monstrosity at Florida in the early ’00s, which even to the untrained eye had an incoherence to it that, at critical moments devolved into dada. Our third bubble-screen in a row? Really? When they just stopped the first two? A draw on third down? Daring! Even when you’re working with top-grade quality, the gangbang approach to in-game strategy seems ineffective at best, especially in terms of setting up defenses for plays later in the game.

Enter Penn State, where Jay Paterno* governs the pass game, Galen Hall** governs the run game, and the end product sort of sits there and cooks at a lukewarm temperature the health department suggests is unsafe for human consumption. Penn State’s last offensive pulse beat somewhere around 2005 when Michael Robinson, unleashed by some cribbed spread-option zone read hoodoo, took Penn State to the Orange Bowl and rewrote the code of reality by making announcers pity a Minnesota safety for a hit he took from a quarterback.

Brian has already laid to waste JayPa’s* record as a quarterbacks coach. (Hint: it’s worse than mediocre, meaning leaning toward “poor.”) There’s little in the way of excuse, since Penn State has consistently taken quality sirloin talent at quarterback and parlayed it into steak finger performance at the college level.

With beloved whipping boy and bookie’s worst enemy Anthony Morelli gone, the return of 2005’s adumbrated VY-bone (itself a bastardized WVU spread) is on the way at Penn State. It’s gonna have passing! It’s gonna have running! It’s gonna have two quarterbacks, one passing and one running, except the white one is the runner, and the black one is the passer, and sometimes the runner will pass, and the passer will run, and there’s gonna be reverses and trick plays and unicorns!

Or, if you’re Captain Killjoy:

”It’s a run offense,” Jay Paterno said. ”It’s really a glorified wishbone offense.”

With sparklers and racing stripes and a lift kit, you mean. It’s like the wishbone, if the wishbone MATED WITH A MAMMOTH and gave birth to HAIRY CYBORG DRAGON OFFENSE. If you’re wondering what this will all look like, it will be like a rare, mystical unicorn with an HDTV for a face tuned to an Obama commercial with black Nikes on and the Apollo moon lander sewn onto it.

The steampunk Dalek is JoePa’s new sideline cart, complete with toilet and guaranteed unbreakable casing for unavoidable sideline collisions.

*Current PSU quarterbacks coach. Obama supporter. Is a secret Muslim, hates America and efficient quarterbacking.

**Current PSU Offensive coordinator and onetime Florida coach in the 80s and 1920s. Son of Rutherford B. Hayes.

One: what color is your season? In other words, please explain the metaphorical state of your program through the metaphor of color:

Hunting jacket orange, the unofficial color of Pennsyltucky and Penn State fans who either forget or refuse to wear blue and white. Orange like the sunset of Joe Paterno’s coaching career at Penn State, which by practically all accounts seems destined to end after the 2008 season. Orange like the brilliant dawn of both the post-AnthonyMorelli era at quarterback and offensive [sic] coordinator [sic] Jay Paterno’s “Spread HD” offense. “HD”, presumably, an abbreviation for “Hilariously Disasterous.”

The last time Joe Pa had horses on offense: either 1994, or in his immortal quadri-car race with Bobby Bowden.

Two: What historical nation and period do you resemble most right now?

Canada, whenever. Always present but only occasionally entertaining. Happily and drunkenly punching around the periphery of relevance, desperately in need of a rival to provide moments of passion.(We respectfully disagree, sirs. Yours, the Canadian Foreign Ministry-ed.) The Big Ten tried to provide that rivalry when it linked Michigan State and Penn State in a season-ending game which never rotates off the schedule. The conference even invented The Land Grant Trophy, which appears to have been constructed by an eighth-grade shop class at St. Delany’s School For The Blind, Dumb, And Tasteless. In theory, it was a nice enough idea as an attempt to (1) gently nudge Sparty away from its eternal little brother status with respect to Michigan and (2) instantly provide Penn State with some form of dependable matchup that could someday be meaningful. Hasn’t happened yet.

Three: You have important players. Discuss a few of them hastily.

Maurice Evans, defensive end: Penn State may be known as Linebacker U., but has also produced a rather stunning list of great collegiate defensive ends. Evans finished in the top 8 nationally in tackles for loss (21.5) and sacks (12.5), and he’ll be counted upon to provide pressure to help a secondary coping with the loss of cornerback Justin King.

Kevin Kelly, placekicker: What could be wrong with a guy who made 20-26 field goals and 44-45 extra points last season? Kelly has struggled throughout his career outside of 40 yards, making only two of eight attempts in 2007. He has the leg for the job, as his two makes from 40+ were both 50 yards long. Still, with a new quarterback, Penn State will have to make the most of its scoring
opportunities this season. Kelly will have to pull his weight when the offense bogs down between the 25 and 35 yard lines, or you’ll eventually see a lot of new quarterback Daryll Clark attempting to
scramble for short chunks of yards on 4th down conversions.

A.J. Wallace, cornerback: Wallace should be the full-time replacement for the aforementioned Justin King, and Penn State desperately needs him to live up to the hype of being the #8 cornerback coming out of high school (according to Scout). He’s been tremendous with the ball in his hands as Penn State’s kickoff returner and designated end-around carrier, but only started to flourish as a corner during the last few games of 2007. Penn State’s secondary looks to be the weakest part of its defense (even with LB Sean Lee’s ACL injury), and Wallace’s maturation into a lockdown corner is an absolute must if the Nittany Lions are to contend for anything other than the Outback or
Alamo Bowl.

Four: Name two games we might actually want to watch featuring your team.

October 11 at Wisconsin. Penn State has been utterly dreadful on the road for the past few seasons, especially against decent-or-better competition. If Ohio State is indeed the runaway favorite in the Big Televen this year, PSU @ Wisconsin should go a very long way in determining who could conceivably sneak into a BCS at-large slot.

October 18 vs. Michigan. Ah, yes. Michigan. You may have heard that Penn State hasn’t beaten Michigan since 1996, prompting catcalls of “We Own…Penn State!” from Wolverine fans everywhere.

Ed: The only victory Penn State has been able to celebrate over Michigan’s may be seen below.

Rich Rodriguez has to implement a new offense while replacing Chad Henne, Mike Hart, Jake Long, and Mario Manningham. So the question for Penn State is, “if not now, when?” Unfortunately, Joe Paterno gets even more conservative when he see the winged helmets — envision a combination
of Woody Hayes and Pat Buchanan. If this is really Paterno’s last shot at Michigan, here’s hoping he releases his inner, rabid brain-devouring, referee-chasing zombie for the occasion, and not the
inner zombie that politely nibbles around the clavicle.

Four-A: Save us all some time and mention the game we’re better off NOT watching.

October 25 at Ohio State. But! But! This is a sorta-rivalry game between two high profile programs in neighboring states! Why shouldn’t you watch it? Allow me to present the results of every PSU-OSU game in Columbus since Penn State joined the conference in 1993:

9/23/2006 @ *Ohio State (12-1) L 6 – 28
10/30/2004 @ *Ohio State (8-4) L 10 – 21
10/26/2002 @ *Ohio State (14-0) L 7 – 13
9/23/2000 @ *Ohio State (8-4) L 6 – 45
10/3/1998 @ *Ohio State (11-1) L 9 – 28
10/5/1996 @ *Ohio State (11-1) L 7 – 38
10/30/1993 @ *Ohio State (10-1-1) L 6 – 24

Yes, that would be 7.28 points per game. Probably won’t get the job done this season, either.

Five: Every hero forgets something in their toolbelt. What does your team lack?

Offensive cohesion. We have three wide receivers who will finish very high on the list of all-time receptions at Penn State, but two new quarterbacks vying for the starting position. Five returning starters on the offensive line, but two inexperienced running backs. If you subscribe to the Anybody But Morelli theory of quarterbacking, both of these problems could conceivably iron themselves out if opposing defenses are forced to respect the Penn State passing game. Stop laughing, pretty please.

Six: Describe your team with a Jimmy Buffett song. No, we’re serious–do it.

Buffet and Pennsylvania don’t exactly go together like Smith and Wesson, but perhaps the most appropriate way to say farewell to the Paterno era is, “If The Phone Doesn’t Ring It’s Me”:

I’ve had good days and bad days
And going half mad days
I try to let go but you’re still on my mind
I’ve lost all the old ways
I’m searching for new plays
Putting it all on the line

Even when Paterno leaves, he’ll still be on our mind as we’re searching for new plays. Specific to this season, there will certainly be good days, bad days, and going half mad days — the types of days that are always associated with teams staring at that 8-4 or 9-3 range. Will the Lions put it all on the line against Michigan and Ohio State? History and an unbearably brutal October schedule says that Penn State will remain on the second tier of the conference for another season.

Seven: We’re master wagerers. Give us a bet to place for up to ten dollars about your team.

The last time Penn State covered the spread in Columbus was never. At least since the Nitty Kitties joined the conference in 1993. Might want to keep that in mind when Ohio State is favored by aboot two touchdowns in October, Eh?

If you’d like to read more about Penn State football, we suggest you take every preview written about them for the past eight years, plug in new names, and then digest accordingly. However, if you’d like to know even more, you should visit Run Up the Score. If you’d like to contribute your own Visiting Lecturer post, please contact us at harumphharumph of the gmail email variety address.

The E’ers are pulling e’er closer to Missouri in the Fulmer Cup, something we’ll summarize in a Fulmer Cupdate as soon as we get in touch with Boardmeister Brian, who is hung like Reggie F’n Nelson.

In the meantime…JoePa’s teaching media relations, and you know what that means. No, not detailed discussions of the possible effects the telegraph could have on coverage, and how William Randolph Hearst’s massive media empire is poised to take advantage of it like no other robber baron can!

No, it means this reality altering concept: JoePa, the metamedia lecturer.

“It’s impossible to tell the difference between a good blogger and a bad blogger,” he said. “The media has to figure out a way to teach students about the impact of blogging on legitimate journalism.”

It makes fun of it for the most part, Joe. It also gives an opportunity to use profanity and photoshop, and to put down all the thoughts someone else might not be able to fit in an 800 word column or bland game summary. Outside of that, there’s not much else to it, Joe, and need not be anything more than that.

Oh, and sodomy jokes. Those are crucial, too.