What? It's the end of the semester already? Whew. Well, guess it's finally time for the "Joe-must-go" column.

I'd been planning this column since the beginning of the summer. I was going to respectfully but firmly urge Joe Paterno to gracefully step down at the end of the season and retire. Then I was going to put on goggles and an Army helmet three months later when I finally summoned up the nerve to leave my apartment and head for downtown State College.

How was I going to justify telling the greatest coach in Penn State history that his time had come? I had a list of reasons, one that steadily grew with each of the Nittany Lions' four losses to open the 2001 campaign. I planned on citing the team's growing decline in the areas which had long been Penn State trademarks: the running game, strong tackling and a patient, disciplined, four-quarter mindset.

I also was going to point to the slow but steady lack of big-name players, and gripe about the ones right in the Lions' own backyard that got away (i.e. Kevin Jones).

Finally, I was going to say that Paterno should hang 'em up simply from the standpoint that all legends have to bow out at some point. Though his reputation and image could never be tarnished by Penn State fans, even if the Lions ripped off 14 losses in a row, that he would lose a little bit of his greatness in the eyes of the rest of the nation.

As I fretted and fussed and pondered how to state my point in such a way that the most ardent JoePa supporters wouldn't be overly offended (I didn't consider how Paterno would react, because, as we all know, he doesn't read the papers), something strange began to happen.

Those darned Lions went and turned their season around.

A win, another win, a place in the record books, another win, a loss, then two more victories, and all of a sudden I was settling down to a Thanksgiving dinner of crow even though I'd yet to write an ill word about the coach.

So, instead of telling you why Paterno should start thinking of recommendations for his replacement, I'm here to say why the winningest coach in Division I-A football can run out of the tunnel in the south end zone of Beaver Stadium for as long as he wants.

Penn State's journey from Pvt. Pyle to Sgt. Slaughter had a lot to do with Zack Mills. It had a lot to do with the offensive line suddenly turning into a brick wall. But it had even more to do with a coach never quitting on his players, and his players never losing faith in their coach.

Paterno opened up the offense, moving away from the traditional grind-it-out running style in spite of the wealth of talent at tailback to a vertical passing attack that let Mills and big-play wideouts Bryant and Tony Johnson wreak havoc on opposing secondaries.

Paterno willed a young defense into a bend-but-don't-break group that held Antwaan Randle El and Indiana's high-powered attack to 14 points and kept Jeff Smoker and Michigan State out of the end zone late in the fourth quarter to preserve another win.

And the special teams unit underwent perhaps the greatest transformation, producing several scores itself and turning the tide on a number of occasions.

Sure, Paterno made a few key changes. He broke his tradition of keeping freshmen on the bench, replacing Matt Senneca with Mills and tackle Matt Schmitt with Chris McKelvy. The playbook was modified as well, as the bread-and-butter Penn State offense added the option, the power-I and heavy doses of the shotgun.

But the most important factor in the Lions' turnaround was one thing that hasn't changed in 36 years -- Paterno's ability to get his players to play. Above all other coaching qualities, this is the litmus test that determines whether a coach should clear out his office or not.

When the Lions started 0-4, Paterno's motivational skills were questioned, but all you have to do is look at the last six games -- folks, he's still got it. You don't stumble upon 327 career wins by chance. Sure, as the humble Paterno will tell you, a lot of it has to do with longevity. But just because you can stay in the game for 36 years doesn't mean you can win for 36 years, and Paterno is.

That's why I'm not calling for his resignation. I'm not searching for potential replacements, and I'm not questioning Paterno's methods or his motives -- regardless of tomorrow's outcome. Sure, it would be nice if the Lions beat Virginia and earned themselves a holiday bowl trip, but that should not be the criteria by which this season should be measured.

Joe Paterno did two very important things in 2001 -- broke Bear Bryant's record and proved to the college football world that, after all these years, he's still a winner. That's why he should coach as long as he wants.