With news that Joe Paterno actually plans on coaching this weekend after breaking his leg, I have to ask myself: why am I such a pussy?
I think that's a question we could all afford to ask ourselves today. Just look at the man. He's going to be 80 years old next month. If I took that hit now, at 22, I'd want a motorized wheelchair and a lawyer who likes to chase ambulances. Yet he hasn't missed a beat, reviewing gameplans from his hospital bed after successful surgery and making arrangements to be at Saturday's game against Temple.
But forget about the broken leg for a second. Just the fact that he's almost 80 and he can even think without crapping himself is pretty remarkable in itself. In this day, when getting cancer is easier than getting a loan and we eat ourselves to heart failure, it's tough enough just to live to 80, let alone still have the wherewithall to coach a successful football team. Shit, I consider him more prescient than Michael J. Fox.
The team is working on ways for him to get around the sidelines -- a golf cart is being suggested, as well as a "souped-up scooter." Personally, I'm rooting for the scooter. I just picture a crazy old man running into people who don't move out of his way quickly enough. At least he can't be much more dangerous than the Titans mascot.