Journalism could be a very boring profession.

If you spent all your time in a cramped office staring at computers, answering e-mails and waiting countless hours for a key source to call you back, you might find yourself on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

Fortunately, though, there's a lot more to it than that.

What makes journalism great is getting out of the office and into the world where the people are.

People who are not only legends in the Penn State sports world, but also on the national level.

And not only on the playing field, but also in the lives of people.

Take Joe Paterno, for instance.

Although I only had the opportunity to speak with the No. 2 all-time winningest coach following Penn State's 27-24 victory against Indiana and at the Tuesday press conference prior to the Michigan State game, the point is I talked to him.

Sure, Penn State's 5-7 mark was the worst of the Paterno era, and the Lions had not lost seven games since 1931 when they were 2-8, but that doesn't change the kind of man Paterno is.

He's the kind of man everyone would want to meet.

A man who, despite racking up 322 victories, never put winning above anything else.

He insists that all his players graduate and, when young Adam Taliaferro fell to a neck jury in the Ohio State game, the 73-year-old coach proved that his players are more than just pawns put in place to make a run at the national title.

Then, there's Jerry Sandusky.

He was a part of each of Paterno's wins for 32 seasons.

But there's more to him than that.

He went on to start The Second Mile to help underprivileged youngsters.

He and his wife, Dottie, also found the time to enjoy breakfast and dinner with their six adopted children each day.

Then, after last season, he quit coaching football in order to spend even more time with The Second Mile, which serves more than 100,000 boys and girls each year.

"He's the kind of man I'd want my son to be," said Fran Fisher, the former play-by-play man for the Penn State Radio Network.

And he's definitely the kind of man I want to be.

Then, there's Pat Farmer of the Penn State women's soccer team.

His statistics alone explain what a great coach he is.

In seven seasons at Penn State, he racked up a 123-34-8, including a trip to the NCAA Women's College Cup, women's soccer's version of the Final Four, when I was covering the team.

The soon-to-be New York Power coach had a great relationship with his players and with the media.

He understood the stresses of both.

As the clock at The Daily Collegian struck 2 a.m. on Dec. 3, 1999 — the day of their Final Four appearance against North Carolina — and I had almost given up on writing an online story, Farmer called, apologizing because he had stayed to watch the other game.

But he then told me all about the game and gave me the quotes I needed.

And that was the story that most likely got me noticed and catapulted me into an editor's position the next semester.

Finally, there was Harry Groves.

The second-longest tenured coach at Penn State, following Paterno, may be the best quote alive.

And he was the very first guy I interviewed here, making it quite easy to write my stories.

Here's one of my personal favorites:

"We didn't exactly set the world on fire, but we were fairly competitive. Everyone hammered, but they didn't hammer enough."

And, believe me, there were better ones.

I just can't put them all in the paper.

As far as people go, there's plenty more of those, too.

Whether it was Courtney Lawson calling her teammates, Christie Welsh and Bonnie Young, "Viking Women" or Peter Brown calling each swimming meet a "stepping stone" to a Big Ten title, every interview was one I looked forward to.

And as I leave the Collegian for "the real world," I hope I never get too comfortable in an office.