Joe Paterno's legacy had seemingly been firmly planted in the history books of college football. But as the details of Jerry Sandusky's child abuse scandal came to light, not even a legacy as rock solid as Paterno's could ever be safe.
As the information became more readily available, Paterno apparently knew that the name and reputation he had worked so hard to maintain would be forever changed. That fact broke Paterno's heart.
Before the 2011-12 campaign even began, or this information even broached the light of day, Joe Posnanski was tasked with writing the legendary Paterno's biography — at Paterno's request, mind you. And after all that's taken place over the past year, Posnaski was forced to alter his original plan for the book entitled "Paterno."
The story ultimately included some very revealing truths about Paterno, which revolved primarily around JoePa's family as well as the coach's fall from grace.
The most recent issue of GQ contains some excerpts from Posnaski's book — Monday's print edition will contain the full preview.
Take a look at some of the revealing excerpts from "Paterno."
Paterno’s son, Scott, reads the grand jury case against Sandusky for the first time:
Scott Paterno was the first in the family to understand that the Pennsylvania grand jury presentment that indicted Jerry Sandusky could end his father's career. This wasn't surprising; Scott tended to be the most realistic — or cynical, depending on who you asked — in the family. He had run for Congress and lost and along the way tasted the allure and nastiness of public life. He had worked as a lawyer and as a lobbyist. He would sometimes tell people, "Hey, don't kid yourself, I'm the asshole of the family." When Scott read the presentment, he called his father and said, "Dad, you have to face the possibility that you will never coach another game."
As the Sandusky scandal explodes, the Paterno family hires a high-powered PR specialist, Dan McGinn, to help navigate the storm:
This is when McGinn learned just how far Paterno's influence and reputation had fallen. He asked [family adviser Guido] D'Elia for the name of one person on the Penn State board of trustees, just one, whom they could reach out to, to negotiate a gracious ending. D'Elia shook his head.
"One person on the board, that's all we need," McGinn said.
D'Elia shook his head again. "It began in 2004," he whispered, referring to an old clash Paterno had with [university president Graham] Spanier. "The board started to turn. We don't have anybody on the board now."
That's when McGinn realized that this was going to be the worst day of Joe Paterno's professional life.
At Paterno's house the day after he is fired via late-night telephone call from the Penn State board of trustees:
On Thursday, Paterno met with his coaches at his house. He sobbed uncontrollably. This was his bad day. Later, one of his former captains, Brandon Short, stopped by the house. When Brandon asked, "How are you doing, Coach?" Paterno answered, "I'm okay," but the last syllable was shaky, muffled by crying, and then he broke down and said, "I don't know what I'm going to do with myself." Nobody knew how to handle such emotion. Joe had always seemed invulnerable. On Thursday, though, he cried continually.
"My name," he told Jay, "I have spent my whole life trying to make that name mean something. And now it's gone."
