The memories raced through Zac Wasserman's mind every time he logged onto his computer, every time he watched TV on fall Saturdays and every time he heard someone mention Penn State.

That's all Wasserman has of his year-long stint as a former Nittany Lions reserve quarterback -- memories.

Wasserman reflects on the hardships and the heartaches he endured. He ponders how things might have been different had he selected another path. Wasserman contemplates how much he has grown since he transferred from Penn State to a junior college close to his California home last May.

Wasserman learned things that can't be taught in a classroom. He learned about himself, learned about life. His experience and perspective will remain him when he surveys a defense, barks out an audible or leads a huddle this fall at Cal as a Golden Bears walk-on quarterback. Wasserman attained mental fortitude to overcome any challenge, regardless of the situation, the score or the defensive scheme.

"I believe everything happens for a reason," Wasserman said. "I'm in a great situation right now."

Wasserman's was not in a great situation at Penn State. He spent the 2000 season -- the lone year he would dress for coach Joe Paterno -- redshirting and recovering from a shoulder injury he suffered in practice. Wasserman wasn't competing against Rashard Casey or Matt Senneca or Zack Mills.

His toughest adversary was himself.

He was homesick since he arrived that August. It was three weeks before Southern California dominated Penn State in the Kickoff Classic in what began the Lions' fall from glory. Wasserman, a top high-school prospect in the nation, watched powerless from the sideline without football for the first time in his young life.

Chris Simms spurned Paterno during the previous recruiting season, and the coach sought two quarterback prospects to complete his roster. Wasserman, Mills and a kid from Manheim -- Jeff Smoker -- received scholarship offers. Wasserman verbally committed on March 30, 1999 to the only college he visited. Mills accepted a week later. Smoker signed with Michigan State.

"Having two Zac(k)s is going to screw me up for a long time," quarterbacks coach Jay Paterno said before the 2000 season commenced.

Except it wasn't too long before one of the two freshman quarterbacks distinguished himself from the other. Wasserman, the other Zac, is a forgotten entity.

Mills is the quarterback who resurrected Penn State's season last year, leading three come-from-behind victories.

Senneca, the quarterback who lost his starting position, opted not to return for his final season of eligibility.

It's Mills' team, his time.

He's the cover boy for the 2002 Penn State Football Annual. His jersey hangs in State College storefronts.

He's not the quintessential quarterback, but he receives the recognition that is bestowed upon the starting signal-caller.

Preseason magazines hyped Wasserman, a 6-foot-3-inch, 200-pound high-school All-American, before he ever stepped on the field. He received similar accolades and the same number of repetitions as Mills. They practiced together, studied film together and began what might have been a five-year competitive situation for playing time as classmates.

Casey, with criminal allegations overhanging, struggled to lead Penn State's offense. Reporters asked Joe Paterno if Wasserman and Mills -- barely old enough to vote -- could, in front of about 100,000 people, lead Penn State's return to prominence.

"They're fine quarterbacks," Joe Paterno would say.

The Lions, projected as national-championship contender in 1999, finished 5-7 the following season. Casey's charges were eventually dropped. Mills' time would come.

Casey graduated. Wasserman's expectations increased.

He was supposed to compete for playing time with his quarterback colleagues during winter conditioning and spring drills. Yet, still homesick, he could barely roll out of bed. He slept the semester away.

"It was a tough semester," Wasserman said. "I was depressed, really. I never went to class. I had no motivation to get up and do things. It was really weird. I didn't want to get up to lift weights or run."

Wasserman was re-energized when the 2001 Blue-White Game concluded spring practice. It was his forum to demonstrate his abilities in front of a Penn State crowd for the first time.

Just before the game, however, Wasserman received news that caused his world to stop spinning. His mother, Candace, had terminal breast cancer and had only a few months to live.

"I knew it was the last game she would ever see me play," Wasserman said.

Wasserman left his lone Penn State legacy on that overcast, rainy spring Saturday afternoon -- bust. Wasserman's numbers -- three completions and 32 yards on 18 attempts, a loss of 12 yards on five carries, two sacks and two fumbles -- and the stat sheet indicated his performance in front of 40,000 spectators who attended the scrimmage.

"Fumble by Wasserman, Zac..."

"Wassserman, Zac pass incomplete..."

"Wasserman, Zac sacked..."

"It was real hard," Wasserman said. "I wasn't focused. On every play, in the back of my mind, I was thinking about my mom."

Mills, meanwhile, shined in his debut, throwing for 97 yards and a touchdown pass. Internet message boards that discuss Penn State football lambasted Wasserman and lauded Mills.

Wasserman didn't disclose his personal battles with reporters after the scrimmage. He said he was "nervous."

Then again, he didn't tell his teammates, either. He just slept.

Wasserman's father, Charles, was compelled to silence the critics. He revealed his son's situation, posting the ordeal, pleading for mercy.

Wasserman left Penn State a few weeks later.

He withdrew, appealed to the University Faculty Senate and wiped out all of his grades. The only remnants from his Happy Valley days are his memories, the relationships with former teammates and, of course, that stat sheet from the Blue-White Game.

"I don't regret coming to Penn State," Wasserman said. "I just committed too early."

He attempted to play football at Texas A&M, close to relatives.

It was too late, though, to enroll. Wasserman returned to his home in Westlake Village, Calif., and attended L.A. Valley Community College. His sentiments were mixed. He was primed to strap on the pads once again, but was now 3,000 miles away from his dying mother.

When he signed with Penn State, Wasserman envisioned playing with elite Division- I athletes in front of 100,000 spectators. Instead, he was lining up with junior-college players with crowds that could be counted by hand.

He tried to focus on football, but his thoughts lingered to Connecticut, where his mother spent her final days.

"I'm kind of happy I wasn't there," Wasserman said. "I didn't want to see her in that condition."

Wasserman talked to his mother on the phone, telling about his transition fresh start with football, school and life in a mostly one-sided conversation.

" 'I love you,' was the only thing she could say," Wasserman said.

Wasserman didn't tell his coaches or teammates when his mother died in October. He struggled on the field, losing and eventually regaining his starting job, conflicting with his offensive coordinator over play-calling.

He kept tabs on Penn State developments. It was another woeful season, and his natural inclinations caused Wasserman to envision a scenario where he -- not Mills -- was leading Penn State's resurgence.

He watched the highlights. He chatted with Mills on AOL Instant Messenger. He was connected even though he was detached.

"I was thinking, 'That could be me right now,' " Wasserman said.

But, he said, "I'm happy how things worked out. I'm happy for Zack."

Michael Robinson and Chris Ganter have filled the void Wasserman left.

Wasserman is completing a few classes this summer to attain an associate degree. He took 27 credits during the spring, finishing with a 3.61 grade-point average.

"The best I've ever done in school," Wasserman said. "I didn't want to stay there another year."

He surveyed colleges close to family -- Cal, San Jose State and Hawaii. Berkeley is about five hours from his home, but its academic reputation was superior.

The redshirt sophomore will walk-on (and eventually receive a scholarship) this fall and to a program that was placed on probation and banned from a bowl game. Wasserman will be an understudy to senior Kyle Boller, and vie with three returning quarterbacks for playing time. Cal has one incoming freshman quarterback on scholarship.

He reflects on Penn State experiences. The pain and sorrow are behind Wasserman. The recollections remain. He's looking ahead with eyes opened wide, focused on the future, hoping to create new memories.

"I can't wait to get up and play with great competition again," Wasserman said. "I want to play at a high level again."